#'not wanting your son to be dead' is a pretty low bar but he DID at least clear that one

[lonesomedreamer]

the thing that really gets me about TSFS is that it all comes down to faith—specifically, Sarek’s faith. there’s no logical or factual basis for his belief in the transference of katras or in fal-tor-pan, which we’re told “has not been done since ages past, and then only in legend”. but Sarek not only holds this irrational, unscientific belief himself...he seems to have passed it down to Spock! he taught these ideas, based on nothing but stories and feelings, to his half-human son who has never been quite Vulcan enough to satisfy him. Spock then internalized enough of those ideas to act on them in the fleeting moments before sacrificing himself for his crew. (Sarek tells Kirk that mind-melding is “the Vulcan way” before death; however, it stands to reason that this isn’t done for the purpose Sarek has in mind.)

while he might not be the best father in the galaxy, Sarek proves that—like Spock’s friends—he’s willing to try anything to save his son from death, even something that seems at odds with both science and his very nature. and it works! it’s illogical, it’s fantastical, but it works. it’s beautiful.

[dawnwriterimagines]

Tortured Soul: Batmom x Batfam

Warning: Angst, Violence, etc.

Summary: Before a big mission, you confront Bruce about sending your sons out to find the joker. Something just doesn’t feel right...

He had been searching for days. For that sadistic clown, Joker. His eyes were always glued to the Batcomputer, as if he couldn't bare to leave without believing he had done all he could, and he slaved himself all day, every night. Even though he had done it all, you knew a Joker was just laughing his ass off at this one, and his joke hadn't even started.

Relentlessly, Bruce was hooking onto every trail, every clue, every hint of evidence, every trace of where that clown could've been. He hacked security cameras, cellphones, police scanners, nothing, for days.

It seemed as if he had disappeared. But, you all knew that that was far from the truth. The Joker doesn't just leave, not without informing you first, in the most disturbing ways, of course. He was waiting, waiting for the perfect time to strike, which was so unlike him. He usually just struck and made hell on earth without even trying, it was a rather gruesome quality he had.

And Bruce knew that. And that's what was driving him to a dead end, Joker wasn't predictable but, he wasn't invisible either. He made himself known with every action he took, no matter how vile or cruel, he wanted you to know it was him. But, this time, he was silent.

Bruce and you had even checked Gotham Asylum, nothing. But, someone did give him answers there, Harley Quinn, locked away, awaiting her sweet Puddin' to bail her out in his own 'creative' way. She was going crazy, stuck there without her Joker to tell her what to do, to coax her in his violent tendencies, she waited for him. The information only put Bruce more in edge and you wished you hadn't gone in the first place.

The moment you locked eyes with Quinn, her grin faded slightly, the glee in her eyes faltered before she looked back at the Batman, who didn't show it but was equally curious as to her change in attitude. Instead of letting them question her, she proceeded to answer Bruce's previous question.

"Nope," she grinned, her face pressed up against the bars of her cell, "But, my Puddin’ is comin', don't you worry about him not showin' up! He's comin for me! And we're gonna have so much fun, this town is just filled with so many things to do! Like the zoo, the carnival, oh! And all that over our own little Gotham roast, I wonder what a burnin’ city smells like, hopefully somethin’ sweet," She laughed horrendously, throwing her head back as she teared up, missing her lover. "Can you believe that? We're goin’ on our honeymoon soon! There's gonna be some pretty lil’ fireworks and raining bodies all over, he said it's just for me, his sweet pumpkin!" She cooed to herself, smiling at the fond memory.

You pitied Harley Quinn. Almost always, all of your meetings with Harley was with her behind bars, left behind by her criminal lover again. You wanted to help her, more than anything, but what could you do? You knew she was suffering but she loved the clown, he had captured both her heart and her mind. There was nothing you could do, you knew the feeling, love makes you do beyond crazy things in the name of it. The only one who could fix it was her.

You and Bruce glanced at one another through the holes of your masks before you stepped closer to the cell, "Harley, what do you mean by the fireworks, the bodies?" Bruce stepped up next to you, the Asylum guards behind you both stiffened, being in the Bat’s presence has always been a little more than overwhelming.

"What is the Joker planning, Harley?" Bruce's voice was low and left no room for tolerance.

Harley turned, slamming her cheeks back onto the bars, most likely bruising the sides of her face. "It's gonna be a celebration. He wants all of you to be there." She referred to the entire bat clan, your expression hardened. Her grin then became forced and saddened, "But, it’s not for me. Not that part. He said it would be for you,” she looks eyes with your widening ones. “Mrs. Bat,” she revealed. “he wanted me to tell you, 'it'll be a killer good time'," She chuckled, but than the laughter grew and then it became maddening and loud. She angled her her head backwards before letting out a horrifyingly sudden wail, forcing the guards to surge past the two of you. But, before they could reach her, she had already begun slammed her head into the bars repetitively, blood leaking from her broken nose, her forehead bruising. But, she didn’t stop, she kept at it, with a smile on her face, until the guards pulled her away and held her down, the woman continued to wail.

You and Bruce slipped away afterwards, unable to stay unless you were to be questioned by the rest of the authority. 

Driving back home, neither of you said anything until you were slowing the car down and pulling into the underground driveway, "We're not bringing them into this," You said, he turned towards you as he stopped the car, the two of you getting out and walking around and towards the cave.

His head angles towards you, having heard you, slightly stunned, his brow creases beneath his cowl. “What?”

“This. There’s something not right about any of this, it’s not like before,” you admitted, Joker had never stayed quiet, hidden for so long.

He instantly knew what you were talking about, "They grew up on this type of danger, (y/n), they've faced bigger than this--" he began, you cut him off.

"Faced bigger than th--Who cares about that!” you began, appalled at his answer, how nonchalant he had said it. “This kind of danger--we should’ve never brought them into this in the first place!" You hissed at him, angrily, his lips set in a stern line at your outburst. "You're not listening to me, you can't just involve them in these types of situations. They're our kids, we should be protecting them, not hurling them into danger!"

Bruce didn't look at you, only proceeding to park the car before opening the car. "This is what we've trained them for, this is what they've been born into. They do this because they want to, remember that, (y/n). Not because I've forced them too." You opened the car door from your side before ripping away from your face. "We'll need their help."

"Since when do you need help, Bruce? Huh? You've never admitted it to me, to our kids. You're Batman, Bruce! Every criminal on the street is afraid to sleep at night because of you!" you stopped him from walking away from you. He glared at everything else, but he didn't look at you. "You know that's not it! So what is it? Why won't you just listen to me for once, and just let us do this ourselves? Leave them out of it."

Bruce then looks at you, his eyes burning into your mind, almost making you recoil. "It's not them I'm worried about, (y/n)," he began, his voice was brutally cold, maintaining his perfectly calm persona. "You will not be going. You should know better than this, that The Joker is after you and I can't have that clown roaming the streets with you as his next target." He then turned his back on you just as you opened your mouth to protest. "That's final, (y/n)."

"So, what? You're gonna send our children out there to fight, instead? And yet, you're going to bench your fucking wife?!" You fumed, stomping after him. "You can't just do that! I've been in this far longer than you care to admit, Bruce, and I'm not going to sit back while you send my kids off to fight that psychotic circus animal!" You seethed, stopping in front of him. "You know that the only way that Joker can ever hurt me is through my family, my kids, you! I won't sit back like a god damn housewife while you have them play soldier!"

"You won't be going anywhere near him! You hear me?" Bruce whirled on you, his teeth gritted and his eye's narrowed as he stuck his gloved finger in your face. "This isn't about your pride, (y/n)! And this isn't some twisted game, this is real, you will stay here, you will be here when we get back, and we will never speak of this again!" He glared down at you before beginning to walk away, but you weren't done with him.

"You're fucking insane, if you think I'm going to stay behind!" Upon using the deranged term, you had taken Bruce's shoulder in your palm and violently spun him around, the man forcefully turning before righting himself, holding back an annoyed growl as you fought against his words. "If you let this clown drive you nuts then you're just damning us all! We don't even know what he's planning, and yet you're thinking of sending them out there looking for a mass murderer without precaution!" You took a breath, setting your hands down into fists before calming slightly. "This isn't about my pride. This is about my boys, I don't want to run in blindly on this. This is different, the Joker has never stayed out of the sun this long, it doesn't feel right."

"So, if it were up to you, you would do nothing," it was a question, but a statement, that you were appalled to hear.

You gaped at him, "Of course not. But, I won't risk the lives of my family in the process."

"This is what they've trained for."

"This is what you trained them for! They're not expendable soldiers, they're our children, Bruce!"

Bruce took two large steps to you, his cape flying behind him as he angrily glared down at you, "You seem to forget who made you Batwoman, who made this team! I'm the one who started this! And this is why we exist! This is why this family stays in Gotham. To protect Gotham," he put his foot down, glaring down into your soul, his eyes cold and the bridge of his nose curling. "So, my wife, you will stay here, monitor the cameras with Alfred, the rest of the team will be leaving tomorrow to find The Joker. This is not up for discussion."

"Bruce...!"

He shoved you up against the back wall, his hand remaining on your chest to keep you there, your eye's widening in surprise as your back collided with the cement wall harshly, "Listen to me, now," his hands gripping your shoulders hard enough to bruise. “You’re staying here. I will chain you down to the bed if I have to. But, you won’t be involved in any physical way in this mission. Is that understood?” 

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Your voice caught in your throat, but your resistance to his words still clear on your face, you’d never been one to take orders from him and you wouldn’t be starting now.

But, as you struggled to find the words to overcome your hurt, he parted from you, his hand leaving you and the pressure subsided against your chest, physically but it only gets heavier as you watch him walk away from you. Leaving you with your thoughts and your worries.

[randoauthor]

Pretty White Dress (P.M)

Pairings: Pete Mitchell x reader, Platonic!Goose x Reader

Warnings: Light drinking, pretty fluffy if ya ask me

Word Count: 1.1K

Author's Note: Ahh this one was so much fun to write!!! I hope you guys love it!

Summary: You and Pete have been together since your senior year of the Academy, five years later you are getting ansty for a ring and one drunken night you finally reveal that.

Masterlist!

You'd be the first to admit you’re a lightweight. While you sit and watch your friends get drunk off of a six-pack or more you are sitting in the corner of the bar, giggling like a mad man.

"Woah Thumper, how many have you had?" Pete asks with a laugh. You look over to your boyfriend and flash him a big smile before a small hiccup.

"Two." You reply, proud of yourself.

"Actually," Goose cuts in. "One and a half, you haven't finished this one yet Thump." He gestures to your half-empty bottle and you dissolve into a fit of giggles, causing Mav to smile at you.

"Come on baby, let's get you home." He says softly, hoisting you up off the chair and, with the help of Goose, of course, the pair managed to get you outside to the car. The drive was thankfully less than eventful. But trying to get you in the house was a totally different story.

"But I don't wanna go home Mav," You whined as your body went dead weight in protest.

"I know baby but you need to get some sleep, we got plans tomorrow." Mav softly says to you. Was he nervous about tomorrow? Absolutely. Did Goose think he was ever gonna see Mav propose? Absolutely not. Were you still drunk off your ass? Yup. Mav didn't want you to be hungover for tomorrow, he had everything planned right down to what the two of you were gonna wear.

Goose helped Maverick get you the rest of the way inside before bidding you both a goodnight, wanting to go home and see his wife and newborn son.

"Baby, we gotta get you in the bath, help sober you up, and tire you out." He said as he helped you with your shoes. "I know better ways to sober me up and tire me out." You shoot back, trying your hardest to be seductive, Mav felt his cheeks heat up before standing up, throwing you over his shoulder, and heading to the upstairs bathroom you share. He set you down softly on the closed toilet and started the warm running water, trying his hardest to ignore your advances.

Slowly the water began to rise in the tub and Mav started to help you get undressed, tossing your clothes to the side with the reminder to get them later once he has you in bed. He slowly helps you lower into the water and you give him a half smile before letting your eyes close.

"Pete?" you ask softly, as you feel exhaustion taking over your body. "Hmm?" He hums a response, shuffling around the bathroom to collect the things you'll need for once you get done in the tub.

"Why won't you marry me?" You ask obliviously.

That simple question made Pete stop in his tracks. He turns to look at you to find you staring blankly back at him.

"Baby, of course, I'm gonna marry you," he says coming to crouch down next to you. "I promise I am gonna marry you soon." You give him a goofy smile before letting out a big yawn.

Pete helped you out of the tub and wrapped out in a towel before leading you out of the bathroom into your bedroom.

He pulled one of his shirts out of the closet before helping you get dressed and brushing your hair, finally lowing you into the bed and pulling the covers over you. You smile at him thanking him before your eyes grow heavy.

Pete shut the lights off and walked out of the room to clean up a little and call Goose, he knew it was late but he and Carole had a newborn son and Mav knew that they took turns staying up to watch him.

"Hey, Mav is everything okay?" Goose sounded tired,

"Yeah buddy everything is fine, did I wake you?" Pete asked apologetically.

"Oh no, I have been awake all night with the little man. Poor buddy has colic or something and has done nothing but cry since Carole went to bed." Goose says, adding a yawn, "anyway, what's up? Is Thumper finally asleep?"

Pete sighed, "yeah they just went to bed a little while ago. they asked me if I was ever gonna marry em'" That caused a laugh from Goose. "Damn, sounds like they are finally onto you." Pete laughed, "it was more of a 'am I not good enough for you to marry' instead of a 'why the hell haven’t you put a ring on it yet?' I just felt bad." sighing, Pete moves into the kitchen beginning to clean.

"Don't sweat it Mav, you're proposing tomorrow anyway." Goose says softly, "anyway, I just got Bradley to fall asleep so I'm gonna go and get some sleep myself." The two boys bid their farewells and hung up before Pete continues to clean, every now and then pulling out the small velvet box and practicing how he was gonna ask you tomorrow.

Pete didn't hear you open the door to your bedroom, he did hear you call for him, and when he didn't respond you quietly made your way down the steps standing on the very last one just as Pete, once again, got down on one knee to practice.

"(Y/N) I love you, I have loved you since the day I met you, and I know that if I don't do it I am going to lose the one thing that drives me to make sure I get home every night. So will you please do me such the honor as to be my wife?" You opened your mouth, still slightly intoxicated.

Mav still didn't notice you standing there, he did however let out a yelp when you finally made a noise.

"Yes." Was as you managed to say.

Pete stared at you with wide eyes, "yes?" he repeated to you again.

"Yes!" you squealed before running over into his arms kissing him like a mad man.

Pete felt his chest swell as he delicately placed the ring on your finger, before kissing you again.

"Holy shit, I gotta call Goose," He cried out excitedly. You sat back and watched your *now* fiance calls his best friend and tell him what just happened. Letting out a laugh as you hear him yell excitedly on the other end of the line, most likely waking his wife and child.

"Now," Pete said excitedly to you as he grabbed your waist. "You can finally wear a pretty white dress."

You smile before kissing him deeply. With only one light on in the house, you and Pete danced together, already making plans for the wedding.

Taglist!

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[phoenixyfriend]

Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 2

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: heavy/shameless flirting, provocative actions, dirty talk, aggressive-ish sexual advances, female!reader

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 1

Next →Part 3

“Too old for you, sweetheart.” 

Those words repeated in your head over and over again, pissing you off more than they probably should have. Even though Keishin had yet to explicitly tell you how old he was, you were already well aware that he was probably a good four or five years older than you at least. Him pointing out that simple fact was not what was grinding your gears—it was the way he had said it.

With that devilish smirk on his face, he had practically said it as if he were taunting you with it. The way he had shut down your question was like he was holding his superiority over you; he might as well have just laughed in your face and said, “You couldn’t have me even if you wanted to.”

It was awfully bold of him to assume something like that with his tone of voice, because you didn’t even want him . . . well, back then you hadn’t wanted him. Now was a different story, and even though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, the blatant ‘you can’t do it’ that screamed at you in his dark brown eyes was more than enough to make you change your perspective. 

So now your mission was to wrap Ukai Keishin around your finger just to prove that you could. 

At first, you hadn’t been sure how to go about accomplishing said mission because Keishin was rarely at the shop at all, which was how you landed the job in the first place—to take over for him. So, you really only had a short window at the beginning of the day when he was leaving and in the evening when he was coming home, but he was usually in too much of a rush or too exhausted to even look in your direction, let alone give you the time of day to make him fall for you.

Nevertheless, you used the few minutes you were graced with each day to the fullest. 

Leaning against the counter, your eyes kept flickering to the clock above the counter and to the door that led to the back room and, in turn, the stairs up to Keishin’s apartment. After working at the store for a few weeks by now, you had come to learn Mrs. Sakanoshita’s and Keishin’s schedules pretty well and knew that Keishin was due to come down the stairs, grumbling about how he was running late, any second now.

Right then, almost as if on cue, you heard heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs and got ready for your morning routine. When the door opened and Keishin emerged with a granola bar stuffed in his mouth and a cup of coffee in hand, you were quick to greet him.

“Good morning.” You smiled as you perked up. 

“Goog morngnan,” his speech was mumbled over the entire granola bar in his mouth, but you caught the gist anyway. He barely paused to acknowledge your presence, his mind completely focused on getting out the door.

A smirk playing at the corners of your mouth, you leaned over the counter, cleavage on full display from your tank top and apron, which hung low on you, and gently grabbed his arm. “Will you be back later tonight or should I wait for you before locking up?” you asked.

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. You asked him this every day, and every day he gave you the same answer. “Just leave when you’re done. I have keys to the store . . . just like I did yesterday . . . and the day before that.”

“Just checking.” You let go of him, but not before you let your fingertips ghost over his forearm. “Have a good day, Keishin.”

“Yeah, you too.” He never returned the sentiment by using your name as well, but you still persisted, hoping that he might change his mind one day. 

As he turned his back to you and headed out the door, you watched him leave. Although men who pretty much wore track suits exclusively were not usually your type, there was just something about the way Keishin’s ass looked in track pants that did it for you. As you wondered whether he was as nicely sculpted everywhere else—and whether it came from volleyball or if he worked out sometimes in secret—he had disappeared from sight. 

With your short-lived window of opportunity having come and gone, resulting in the same pathetic outcome as always, you sighed heavily and got back to work. As much as ogling the boss’ son was entertaining, you still wanted to keep your job because you did really like it, so you still had to actually get the job done. 

Like every other day, you spend your shift helping out customers, manning the front counter, and cleaning when cleaning needed to be done. The days were usually more or less the same, so by now you could predict when a heavy customer flow would hit—like around lunchtime and after work/school hours—and when the store would be dead, giving you time to take a break, eat some lunch, and get some chores done. 

Sometimes the days went by in the blink of an eye and sometimes they dragged on painfully slowly. Today was the former, probably because it was a Friday and the store tended to see a higher than normal customer rush in the afternoon when people stopped by on their way home to grab snacks and drinks for the weekend. 

Today, however, ended up being unusually busy, even for a Friday, and before you knew it, it was almost time for your shift to end and you still had quite a bit of shelves to restock. You were a little bummed about having to stay late on a Friday night, but you knew that if you went home you would just end up eating some leftovers in the fridge, taking a shower, and lying in bed, scrolling on your phone, until you passed out. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any exciting plans for the evening, so it wasn’t a hard decision to choose to stay later to get the work done instead of having to come in earlier on Saturday morning. 

With the radio playing in the background, like it always was in the evenings when the customer flow was practically nonexistent, you locked the front doors and worked through box after box, restocking the shelves and doing some of the remaining cleaning that you hadn’t been able to get done during the day.

Half an hour or so later, you heard a slight commotion from the front doors and instinctively looked up at the clock, noting the time. It was well past closing time by now, but this also wouldn’t be the first time you would have needed to deal with someone who couldn’t tell time and send them on their way empty-handed. 

Just as you stood up from where you were kneeling in front of one of the back shelves, the familiar sound of the front doors sliding open filled the store. Confused and a little on-edge, you approached the noise. Ever since your first day, you refused to be snuck up on again and always had your ears sharp and listening for people. 

Rounding the shelf, you spotted a figure with its back turned to you. However, you recognized that ass and poorly dyed blonde hair instantly and calmed down. It was only Keishin.

“You’re back late,” you commented. Sure, he always reminded you that he had a set of keys for the store, but he had never returned after you had locked up and actually had to use them before. 

When Keishin turned around after locking the doors behind himself, you noticed he was a little wobbly on his feet and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, so that’s why you’re late.” You stood back and gave him a wide birth as he slowly stumbled over to the counter and sat down on the stool behind it. 

Keishin narrowed his brown brows at you. “What’s that mean?” he inquired, his speech completely unaffected despite the fact that he was moving like he was tipsy, which he seemed to be.

“Oh, nothing.” You shrugged, brushing off his inquiry. “At least one of us had a good night.”

“Mmm . . . very good,” he sighed before folding his arms on the counter top and resting his head on them. 

You watched him for a minute or so, watching his back for rising and falling to prove he was still breathing when he went silent and still. “You should probably go to bed,” you told him, afraid he might pass out right there on the counter, leaving you to deal with his unconscious body. 

“Yeah . . .” He paused for a while before continuing. “Just rest here for a little bit first.”

“Okay.” You nodded slowly before turning back toward the shelves you had been stocking. “Well, I’ve still got some stuff to finish up so just call if you need anything.”

“Kay.”

Normally, you would be using this time to try to seduce him some more in whatever subtle way you could think of, but since he was pretty drunk, you decided against it for tonight. Besides, you were a little too exhausted to try anything anyway. Maybe this had all worked out for the best; a night off to just be in the same room as him and maybe you could gather some information to aid your pursuit that would resume the following day.

As the radio continued to play softly throughout the store and Keishin rested on the counter top, you quickly finished up stocking the shelves, noting that you would need to do some sweeping the next morning due to how dusty the tile was in the back corner. 

Standing up, you dusted off your hands and began patting your black pants off as you strolled back to the front. Surprisingly, Keishin was sitting up now, leaning back against the wall and typing something on his phone. In about twenty minutes, he seemed to have sobered up quite a bit.

“Damn, you bounce back fast,” you said, eyeing him and the nimble movements of his fingers while he typed. When he didn’t respond at first, you just went back to dusting off your pants.

“You missed a spot,” he finally spoke, his fingers ceasing movement while his eyes flickered over his phone at you.

Trying to inspect the back of your pants and failing miserably, you huffed. “Where?” You patted a few more spots, starting to wonder if you had actually missed a spot or if he was just messing with you.

“No, not there. On the side-” He tried to point out the spot he meant, but when you kept turning and twisting, it was impossible for him to pinpoint the area for you. “Oh, for fuck sake.” He set his phone down, stood up, and approached you. 

Right as he extended his hand to wipe away the smudge of dust on the side of your thigh, you turned again and he ended up brushed his hand across your ass. You both froze immediately, and when you looked up at him, you noticed a light dusting of pink across his cheeks.

Out of all the fruitless plans and days you had spent trying to get any reaction out of him, in the end, all it had taken was a few drinks on his part, an accidental encounter, and a misunderstanding to see any sort of progress.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered slightly, but you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol . . . or, at least, it wasn’t just from the alcohol. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, shrugging it off right away. It really wasn’t that big of a deal and you were slightly surprised to see such a reaction from him after something as trivial as an accidental butt touch. 

“I-I was trying to brush your thigh but you turned and then-”

You giggled. “Really, it’s okay.” You found his embarrassment endearing. “I think I’ll survive.”

“It’s not about that.” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Workplace harassment is taken pretty seriously these days. Not to mention . . . sexual harassment.”

This time your giggle turned into a full blown belly laugh. “Do you honestly think I’m going to report you for an accident like that?” you questioned. “Besides, who am I going to report you to? You and your mom own this place, right?”

Furrowing his brows, Keishin seemed pretty disgruntled about what had happened. “You’re sure you’re not upset about it?”

“You’re really bent out of shape over this, aren’t you?” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, how about we make it even?”

“What are you-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you had reached around and gently planted your hand on his ass. It took every ounce of self restraint you possessed not to give it a squeeze and test to see if it truly felt as great as it looked, but in the end you just left it at a light touch like he had done to you.

“Now we’re even,” you told him softly. “You gonna be okay now?”

Just like before, there was a faint blush on Keishin’s cheeks. But this time, in addition to the pink hue, there was a hungry look in his eyes, and you truly couldn’t tell if he was actually hungry after drinking so much or if he was hungry for something else . . . for you.

The two of you fell into silence for a few moments, breathing heavy and eyes locked. The way he was staring at you, you were ready for him to lunge at you at any second, but he never did. His hand twitched slightly by his side and his tongue ran over his bottom lip, but he never stepped closer.

Since this seemed like your best chance, you were forced to make the first move. If he didn’t want this, you would stop right away . . . but you were half convinced he did want this.

“You work so much . . . has it been a while since someone has touched you like this?” you asked in a hushed whisper, slowly removing your hand from his behind and moving your fingers to toy with the hem of his shirt. 

Keishin, whose face and neck were bright red at this point, didn’t answer. Instead, he swallowed hard and wrapped his hands around your arms. Then, he stepped backward, sat back down on the stool, and pulled you to stand between his legs. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” Your hands began travelling up under his shirt, nails lightly scratching over his lower stomach. “Say the word and I can make you feel good.”

Keishin’s lips parted and it looked like he was seconds away from practically begging for it, but before he did, something flashed in his eyes and he came to his senses. Running his hands down your arms, he snatched your wrists, pulled your hands out from under his shirt, and held you at arms-length. 

“I know that you think this is all fun and games, sweetheart, but you’re seriously biting off more than you can chew here,” he warned, eyes dark and serious.

You were taken aback. How had he done a 180 so quickly?  “How do you know how much I can fit in my mouth?” you teased, choosing your words carefully. “You haven’t even let me show you yet.”

He just shook his head. “26.”

You cocked a brow, unsure if you had heard him correctly or not. “What?”

“You asked me how old I was,” he elaborated. “I’m 26. You’re 18. That’s an eight year age gap. Eight years is a lot when you’re 18.”

You felt your blood begin to boil in your veins. “Why does everyone think they know what I can and cannot handle?”

“Why are you so adamant on refusing to acknowledge that people older than you might have some useful advice?” he said plainly. “I’ve been 18 before. I know what it’s like to feel like no one is taking you seriously, but making stupid choices in order to pass as independent is not the way to go about rectifying that situation”

Groaning in frustration, you pulled your hands out of his grasp. “I’m not trying to ‘pass as independent’. I am independent! I can make my own decisions and if I want to have meaningless sex with a 26-year-old I should be able to do that!”

“Why is this the hill you want to die on?” he inquired.

“Because it’s the only hill I have!” 

Untying your apron from around your waist, you yanked it over your head and threw it harshly onto the counter. After grabbing your belongings from the back room, you headed for the door, ready to be as far away from Keishin and the store as possible.

“Just my luck that I stumble across the only morally-responsible 26-year-old burnout in the fucking world,” you spat at him on your way past him to the front door. “I’m going home.”

“Okay, goodnight,” Keishin responded calmly, definitely completely sober by this point. He watched as you struggled with unlocking the front doors, waiting a reasonable about of time before offering his help. “You have to turn it the other way.”

Taking his advice without a word in response, you shot a glare at him over your shoulder as you pushed the doors open. You wanted to hurl one last insult his way, but by then, you were too emotionally exhausted and mentally flustered to think of anything appropriate . . . and if you were being honest with yourself, his words were sinking too deep for your liking and you needed to be away from him before you did something truly horrible . . .

. . . like admitting he might be right. 

[sodasback]

Ex BF - Part 2

Drew Starkey x Reader

Part 1

You guys, I changed my mind, this one just works so much better as a Drew Starkey fic ...so fuck it, I’m just gonna post what I had on my deactivated blog. 

It had been months since you ran into Josh on set at Drew’s work. Luckily, Drew was only in a couple scenes for that project and he only worked on that show one more day without running into Josh. Now, you, Drew and a lot of the Outer Banks crew were all in LA again and going out to a bar.

Unfortunately for you, and everyone that night, Josh and his friends were at the same bar.

“Oh hey, it’s y/n and her movie star boyfriend, Andrew.” Josh said as he appeared next to you and drunkenly leaned an arm on your shoulder. If looks could kill, the look on Drew’s face would have for sure been the death of Josh. It was a mixture of shock and rage at the audacity of this guy. Drew was so taken aback, he didn’t know how to react.

You uncomfortably chuckled and squirmed out from under Josh’s arm to stand in front of Drew quickly, not knowing if Drew’s truly calm nature could be tested any further. “Mhmm, great to see you Josh.” You stated dismissively.

Your effort to separate them was lost as Drew instantly and easily maneuvered you behind him protectively. You turned for the bar as quickly as possible, hoping to end the situation there, so you grabbed Drew’s hand to pull him along with you.

“Aww, y/n/n, you’re not gonna stay and let me get to know your little boyfriend?”

You felt dead weight behind you as you tried to pull Drew away. 

“Bro, I’m telling you right now, back the fuck off.” Drew stated. You whirled around to get in front of him, as Josh took a step forward and titled his chin up, “Or what?”

You put your hands on Drew’s chest. He easily looked over your head to continue glaring at Josh.

“Drew” you said sternly. He glanced down at you for a second, before looking back up at Josh. Josh smirked and waited to see what Drew was gonna do. “He’s not worth it. Trust me.” You said. Drew looked down at you and softened. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder an you wrapped both arms around his waist to walk to the bar. 

“You know, as hot as you are when you get all scary like that. I really really don’t want you getting in a fight because I have an absolutely horrible ex boyfriend.” 

You emphasized the first part of this sentence, but Drew just gave you a deadpan stare. He knew you were trying to flirt with him to get him to relax. And you knew it was too late at this point. As evolved and emotionally intelligent as Drew was, he had now entered caveman mode. Josh challenging him because of you triggered instincts deep within him to meet that challenge aka defending your honor. ...1 point toxic masculinity, 0 points non-violent female empowerment.

At this point in your life, you were happy. You had everything you wanted in your career. You had a beautiful apartment. Your family was healthy. You had the best friends you could ask for. And of course, you had Drew. Drew was the one. He was your soulmate. Your best friend. And you knew it. You didn’t feel the need to put Josh in his place any more. You just wanted to keep enjoying your life. You had time to make peace with what Josh did to you and you felt like you moved past it and him. Yeah, you felt like you were past it, you tried to convince yourself. It had been years since the incident happened and you and Josh broke up...

Flashback

You and Josh were 20 and had been on and off for a couple years. One night, you had both been out, when you started fighting, something that wasn’t new to your relationship. Josh had been flirting with another girl a lot of the night and gaslighting you to make you feel like you were imagining it. As you brought up the flirting again, he was reaching for his car keys. You were pissed that he was using this tactic again. He would leave until you calmed down and started to worry about him so much that you would just finally give in and forget the fight, instead of holding him accountable. You were so mad at him for making you feel like you were crazy and for always manipulating you by leaving. You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, “Sure, just leave again. Fucking typical, Josh. Like father, like son, I guess.”

And before you could even process what happened, the whole right side of your face was stinging, a cut near eye was bleeding from his ring and your ears were ringing. Josh had just backhanded you hard. Time stood still for a moment as your hand went to cradle your cheek. You were absolutely shocked.

“Oh fuck. You okay?” 

You finally looked up at him with an unreadable expression on your face. “..don’t make this a big deal, okay? That was a really shitty thing to say and you just made me so mad, I couldn’t help i-” At that point, you stormed into the bedroom and locked the door. He now was faced with you being upset and maybe even losing you; he started knocking on the door and apologizing profusely after realizing your reaction. You were completely blocking out all the noise coming from the other side of the door as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

Okay, that was a really low blow. Yeah, but he HIT you.

I definitely shouldn’t have said that. But he HIT you.

Maybe I deserved it. No, he HIT you. You continued to argue with yourself.

What would you tell your y/bff’s/n if this happened to her?

What would your mom or dad tell you right now?

If he did it once, he could do it again.

...this isn’t the first time you’ve been scared of him.

...but he seems genuinely really sorry.

You opened the door to find Josh sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. He looked at you scared and hopeful, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry for what I said. It was really unfair and hurtful of me.” You stated genuinely.

Relief washed over his face for a second, “I’m so sorry baby. I swear that will never happen again.” He said, as he got up and he started to make his way to hug you. 

“Yeah, I know it will never happen again...” you held your hand out to stop him from touching you, confusion now evident in his expression, “because we’re done.”

His face dropped, expression now being somewhere between confused, angry and disappointed. Josh wasn’t used to you putting up boundaries and not letting him get away with all the shit he pulled. “Y/N-” he started. 

“No.” You said adamantly, “Frankly, I don’t care how sorry you are. I don’t care how much I pissed you off. I don’t care how much you promise that will never happen again. Our relationship was toxic before what just happened. I know I’m not perfect and I have a lot of things to work on. But I 1000% know in my bones, that I WILL NEVER let you hit me again. I deserve better. We’re done. I’m going to my parents’ house. I’m coming back tomorrow between 10 and 2 to get my stuff. Don’t be here.”

A couple months later, you had a text from an unknown number. It was Josh borrowing a friend’s phone to text you, since you blocked any way he had to contact you. He apologized. He held himself accountable. There was no deflecting or manipulating in the message and he promised he would never contact you again. You replied: “Thank you for your apology. Yes, I’d appreciate it if you don’t contact me again.”

And that was it. You ran into him briefly at the grocery store once and you had been in a really good mood. Your interaction was light and almost flirty. You felt so ashamed about it later, but you hadn’t seen or heard from Josh again until years later, with Drew on set. And little did you know, seeing you with Drew set something off in Josh that he just couldn’t let go.

-

As you stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention, you turned to see the caveman version of your gorgeous boyfriend still glaring, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“Babe.” You said and he looked at you.

“He’s got fuckin nerve.” He said shaking his head and you took a deep breath ready for the rant, “First off, called me a movie star. I am a serious actor, Y/N.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at Drew being offended anything this asshole said and Drew’s eyes widened at you and you stifled a giggle while you laced your hands around his neck to appease him, “Mhmm” you encouraged. 

“And then he called me ‘Andrew’“ Drew went on. And you nodded and gave him a sympathetic pout, “I know, I heard.”

“And THEN, he has the AUDACITY to put his fucking arm around you?! Bro, I’m heateddddd-” He continued, barely paying attention to you as you leaned your body against his. You ignored the fact that he just called you bro and tried a different tact. 

“Drew, stop. You can’t get into a bar fight. Think about your job.”

“I don’t care about my job. I care about you.”

“That’s not true. You do care about your job. And I know you care about me. But if you get into a fight right now, it’s not gonna change what he did to me. It was a long time ago. We’re not together anymore. I’m over it. Punching him is not gonna do anything except jeopardize your future.”

Drew still had his fight face on, “Well, knocking that smirk off his fucking face would sure make me feel better.” He said and you scowled at him. “And for the record, I don’t think you’re over it. And you don’t have to be. You never have to be over it. And that doesn’t mean you aren’t fucking strong and badass.” 

You were quiet as you contemplated what Drew said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before looking at you. “Okay” he said softly. 

 “Thank you” you said softly before you pulled him down to kiss him. After a minute of you successfully distracting him with a pretty passionate slow kiss, you felt Drew melt a little. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. Do you want to leave? Like do you not feel like being out anymore?” He asked sweetly.

“No, I’m okay. He’s just being a drunk asshole.” You turned away to grab the drinks the bartender poured for you and Drew, “We probably won’t even see him for the rest of the night.” 

You turned back and realized caveman Drew was now glaring at Josh again as you spoke, “..or not.” You rolled your eyes.

Despite the bad beginning, you and your friends ended up having fun as the night went on. And you and Drew proceeded to drink. Which was probably not the smartest decision. You were both feistier when you drank and you knew Drew’s natural state of calmness was only going to wear off as the night went on.

Eventually, you had to go to the bathroom. But you didn’t trust Josh to not instigate something with Drew while you were gone and you didn’t trust Drew to not try and avenge your honor while you were gone either. So you found Austin, Chase and JD. Chase and JD were only half-listening as they watched whatever game was on the tvs at the semi-crowded bar. 

“Guys, I need you to watch Drew while I go pee.” You said. Drew rolled his eyes and hung his head back with a groan.

“What’s the rig?” Austin asked, ironically using his favorite word as he put one arm on your shoulder and the other on Drew’s.

“Drew is trying to fight my ex-boyfriend and you need to stop him from ruining his career and/or going to jail for assault.” You looked at Drew as you finished your sentence remind him that he could get in serious trouble for getting in a fight. Drew scoffed as Austin looked to him for confirmation of what you were saying.

“He called me a movie star dude” Drew said.

“Oooff” Austin agreed that this was a major dig.

“And then he called me ‘Andrew’“

“Ahhh man” Austin commiserated, “This kid deserves to get hit for sure.”

“Austin!” You scolded, “You are not helping!”

“Bro, that’s not even half of it. Like what he did to Y/N; he deserves to get the absolute shit beat out of him, I promise you-”

“Okay, stop! We’re not discussing this. Chase, JD, you are in charge of Drew. Keep him occupied while I go pee and don’t let him ruin his entire life by getting in a stupid bar fight. And Austin, stop encouraging him and keep your mouth shut til I get back please!” You commanded, as you pushed Drew and Austin toward Chase and JD. JD gave you a salute while he put his arm around Drew’s shoulders. 

While you were gone, Drew was drunk and spilling all your business, trying to get all 3, also drunk, boys on his side. “Guys, you don’t even know. This guy is the biggest asshole.”

“Wait, is he really? Or do you just not like him because he’s y/n’s ex?” JD asked.

“No dude. First of all, he like cheated on her a bunch of times; he was super manipulative and .. he fucking hit her once dude.”

The all looked at each other, “What the fuck?!”

“Like hit her?”

“Yeahhhhhh, like physically hit her face.”

“Well you are completely justified, brother.”

“Yeah, we have your back man, whatever happens.” They all nodded and broke out of their little huddle.

“Look! No fighting!” Chase said proudly when you got back, opening up his arms.

“Good job Chase. Gold star” You said returning his quick side hug.

The group decided it was time to go to one more bar, so you all walked out the back ext into a big alley. Where, of course, Josh and his friends were smoking and noticed your crew before you noticed them.

“You think her movie star boyfriend knows what an uptight little prude she used to be?” Josh said to his friend loud enough for you to hear. You honestly didn’t even care about what Josh said, you knew he was trying to get Drew to react. And you knew even your sweet, soft Drew was not immune to anger getting the best of him. Drew stopped walking, still slightly turned away from Josh and just shook his head, not believing Josh’s audacity. 

Even though the guys had been supportive when they were talking to Drew about fighting Josh, no one actually wanted that to happen. So Austin was quickly by Drew’s side, “Don’t do it bro. It’s not worth it.”

“Drew.” You said trying, to get him to focus on you. Unfortunately, you were with a group of boys full of testosterone and Chase was also feeling feisty and protective. 

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up bro” Chase said, taking a step toward Josh, but luckily a level-headed JD was immediately pushing Chase softly backward. 

“Ooh maybe, she’s not such a prude anymore. Maybe she’s sleeping with the whole cast; they’re all so protective of her.” Josh laughed.

“Josh stop! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You yelled at him. And Drew was instantly moving in front of you, “You need to stop talking right now man.” Drew said in a tone that made the hair on your arms stand up. You could feel the tension rolling off Drew.

“Drew calm down. Please.” You pleaded as he looked down at you.

“Y/n, I can’t let him talk about you that way.”

“He’s trying to get under your skin. That’s what he wants.”

“Yeah, well it’s fucking working.”

“Drew, come on. Let’s just go home.” He began to give in as you pulled his arm. 

Josh was obviously determined for a fight, because the next thing that came out of his mouth made it impossible for anyone to stop Drew.

“Hey good luck with y/n, man. I treated her like trash for years and she still came running back to me, bitch has got issu-” And before he could utter another word, Drew’s fist connected with his jaw. 

“Fuck.” You cursed as your hands went through your hair and you backed up between Austin, Chase and JD.

Josh recovered and hit Drew in the eye. 

You gasped. Turning into JD’s chest and he protectively wrapped his arms around you. Drew hit Josh again and he fell to the ground. Drew bent over him and punched him again. “Don’t you ever fucking talk about her again!” He yelled through gritted teeth, “Don’t look at her again. And if you EVER touch her again, I swear to God-” he spat in between a few more punches. 

“Drew! Please!” You yelled and finally Austin pulled him back. “That’s enough, bro.” 

“Come on” JD still had his arms around you, walking you away from everything. 

Drew was breathing heavy and trying to overcome his adrenaline. You and JD were already around the corner with most of the group. 

“Come on, let’s go” Chase ushered Drew away with Austin. And they followed in the same direction. Drew saw you walking ahead of him. 

“Y/N” he called after you softly. You stopped and turned around. He was already right there enveloping you in his arms. 

“Fuck y/n. I’m so sorry.” He muttered kissing the top of your head. You just kept holding each other while the group called Ubers. 

You pulled away from him a little, “Are you okay?” You asked trying to get a look at the bruise forming on his face. “Yeah, baby. I’m fine. I’m so sorry I did that. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.” He said, hugging you again. After a long pause, you pulled up and looked up at him:

“Thank you.” You stated genuinely and Drew looked at you surprised. But while you continued to look at each other, you both understood without saying anything more. You both knew it wasn’t okay that Drew just got in a fight. And you both knew you didn’t need your boyfriend to defend you honor, but you were thankful someone finally had.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe @stupidpendeja @lemur46 @phantompogues 

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: “i thought you were dead? for years, i thought you were dead! and i hate that i still love you and never moved on!” 

♡ pairing: tim drake (red robin) x fem! reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “you’re riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I’m going to change that tune when I’m back on top in June. I said that’s life and as funny as that may seem, some people get their kicks stomping on a dream.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / please check the pinned tweet please! since i’m very low on inspiration.

Tim Drake stared at you, mouth wide open, not knowing what to say or do. he felt like he saw a ghost. you were standing across the room, talking amongst others as they instantly crowded around you. everyone had thought the same thing Tim did and only a selective few knew about your whereabouts. 

you were giving Dick a hug, whispering in his ear about how much you missed him as Damian stood there dumbfounded. Jason was not in the room or else you knew that he would be giving you an earful about the entire situation. Jason always did think of you as a sister when you first started dating Tim. 

“what the fuck happened to you?” Damian screamed, finally coming into the realization of the situation, “you were dead! we saw you die! all of us did!” he continued. you bent down, giving him a hug as he didn’t bother to try and deny it. 

“it’s a long story. i was under secrecy for a long time and couldn’t tell or say anything without me getting caught,” you told him. you looked to Dick who still couldn’t believe what was going on, “it must’ve been a monumental mission if you were technically dead for three years and I couldn’t know about it,” he replied. 

you nodded, whispering to him that you’d tell them the details later, “is...he around?” you asked, referencing Tim. Dick moved a bit to the left, revealing the man you were still madly in love with. you felt yourself gulp, scared on his reaction, “oh god, I never realized how bad this is,” Dick whispered to himself, sensing the tension immediately. 

+

you swinging around the Batcave, Batman clearly annoyed with your antics as you finally plopped down next to him, “aww c’mon Bruce! live a little! this Batcave is so depressing and need I say, dark?” you said, hearing the door jingle open. 

“great, the boys are here,” he murmured, realizing that introductions had to happen between you and his sons. Bruce had taken you in a few months ago, under the guise that you needed a better mentor, “you haven’t met them, right?” he asked. 

you shook your head no, “course I haven’t! it’s my first week in Gotham!” you exclaimed happily. you did hero work out of the west coast and happened to finally land in Gotham for the first time ever, “although I did run into Damian earlier in the week so I think he’ll recognize me!” 

Tim and Dick were the ones who walked in, conversing about some Gotham football game. you smiled at the two boys as they stopped dead in their tracks, “uh....Bruce, who is this?” Dick asked, pointing at you. you stood up, shaking their hands, “I’m ( your name )! Bruce’s new apprentice!” you explained. 

the two sighed, Dick’s first thought being if Alfred knew about you. Tim on the other hand didn’t exactly respond as quick. you were oddly excitable, not exactly the personality that ran rampant across the ‘family’, “apprentice or daughter?” Dick asked, a bit playfully. 

“she’s an apprentice. no need to adopt someone who’s already an adult,” he replied as he stood up himself, “she came from the west coast so she doesn’t exactly know her way around here. it’d be helpful if one of you showed her around. I don’t trust Jason or Damian enough,” he said, walking to another one of the computers. 

“Stephanie isn’t around?” Damian asked, walking inside of the cave, “she’s already acquainted with her and she isn’t available to do it right now so it’s up to Dick or you Tim,” Bruce repeated. Dick looked to his brother with his eyebrow lifted up, “well?” he asked Tim. 

the two of them went to look at you who was already not paying attention to what was going on. you were nose deep into a computer with music blaring inside of your headphones, “I swear that girl has ADHD or something,” Damian murmured to his brothers, “but I think Drake should do it! you just love getting to know people, don’t you?” Damian pressured. 

Bruce nodded in agreement, “it’s settled, you’re showing her around!” Tim stared at Damian, ready to attack the gremlin with his bare hands,��“appreciate it Tim!” you yelled from your seat, surprising the three who thought you couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

+

it was already a few months into your internship with the Batfamily. you had gotten closer with Jason, Stephanie, and because of your relationship with Dick, you befriended Starfire as well. even though your work was constantly surrounding you around Tim, you weren’t around him much unless it had to do with work. 

“where you heading off too?” Jason asked, seeing you all dressed up, “Star, Barbara, and Steph wanted to go out for the night since we aren’t on duty so we’re going to get drinks up the street,” you told him. he nodded, looking to Tim and seeing the way he was checking you out, “why do you go with them, Tim?” he asked. 

Tim looked at Jason with a bewildered expression, “why would I be the only guy in the group?” he asked sarcastically. you on the other hand jumped up in joy, “you should!” you exclaimed, “come on! it would be amazing! you know you want too!” you poked Tim’s side in anticipation. 

he sighed, slipping a bit on the couch, “fine,” he muttered, making you excited all over again. you gave him a few minutes to get himself together, “you know he likes you, right?” Jason told you. you laughed out of genuine shock, “who? Tim? yeah right!” you let out another laugh, not believing he was lying to your face, “fine, don’t believe me but it’s pretty obvious.” 

you couldn’t say much else as Tim walked out, hair restyled and threw on a different jacket, “ready?” he asked, hands deep in his pockets. you nodded, throwing Jason a scrap piece of paper before heading out the door as Dick walked inside, “meeting the girls?” he asked. 

“yeah and I’m taking your brother as a hostage,” Dick was surprised, “did you finally?” he started to ask before Tim screamed at him to shut up, “how about we leave,” Tim told you, discreetly hitting Dick on the back of his leg as retaliation. 

the two of you walked out as you told Tim that the place you usually went out with the girls was in walking distance, “I think they’re going to be surprised you even decided to leave your apartment,” you joked as he rolled his eyes playfully, “I don’t think they’ll mind. at least Stephanie can stop saying that I never go out,” he said. 

you laughed softly, “yeah you might be going out with a bunch of girls but it sure beats being stuck inside playing video games or doing work,” you replied, “yeah, guess your right,” you two walked inside of the restaurant, already seeing Steph, Starfire, and Barbara sitting at the usual table. 

the three girls had their mouth hanging as they saw you walking in with Tim, “he actually came out?” Barbara screamed, not believing Tim was actually out, “yeah, figured it was better than staying in for the night!” you said excitedly. 

“I couldn’t even get him to come out with me at times and I dated him,” Steph murmured under her breath to Star. she laughed as you pulled chairs for you and Tim, “I’m getting first round of shots!” you told the group excitedly. Star and Barbara had followed you to the bar, leaving Steph and Tim in a small awkward silence 

“you like her don’t you?” she asked. Tim nodded, figuring it was better to just tell the truth than to lie, “that’s cute! she’s a great girl. I’m happy you finally found someone else but I will say one thing, I think you better get a move on with your feels with her because I know a few others who have an interest in her and one might be on your team,” she said, not so subtly hinting at Connor. 

Tim was taken back by what Stephanie was telling her but remained silent, “and I think she’d say yes on Connor so you better be quick,” she laughed, seeing Tim’s slightly jealous eyes. you returned to the table, giving everyone their glass as you raised yours in the air, “to Tim! for actually leaving his house for once!” you screamed as they all raised their glass and took the shot down.

throughout the night, Tim saw the way you were singing and dancing with Steph and Star, your terrible drunk singing voice getting louder as they played ‘poker face’ by lady gaga towards the end of the night. 

+

you stared at Riddler, seeing that he was ready to attack Tim with full intentions to kill him. you debated for a moment, saving a few civilians from getting mildly hurt or seeing your boyfriend get killed? you chose the latter and ran to Tim who was not paying attention in the slightest at what Riddler was doing. 

“Red!” you screamed, your feet moving as fast as they could and pushing him out of the way. you felt the slice of the knife into your stomach as you had successfully pushed Tim to safety, “fuck,” you whispered, seeing the blood already pooling underneath you. 

although you getting hurt was already pre-planned, you had no intentions of getting hurt this badly, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued, trying to grab your cape to stop the bleeding, Tim stared down at you, seeing the blood gushing at a rate too dangerous for his liking, “hold on, please hold on!” he screamed, moving you out of harms way. 

Bruce had saw you giving him the signal, weakly but you still gave it to him. it was your only chance for your pre-planned mission to actually succeed and the start of that plan was to make you die in front of everyone. Bruce had swung down from the stairs, seeing the way your eyes closed. 

“she needs to go to the hospital,” he told Tim, making him rush you to the hospital himself. he knew this was the only time he would be able to say his goodbyes to you and he need to make it count, “go now!” he yelled. 

Tim dragged your almost lifeless body to the nearest hospital, screaming at the staff that you needed help immediately. the nurses grabbed your body, hauling it to the OR as Tim sat there, blood all over his uniform as he watched you get wheeled into the hallway. 

it felt like hours by the time they gave an update to all of them. Bruce, Tim, Dick, Jason, Steph, Barbara, and Damian, were sitting in the waiting area, munching on food nervously as the nurse came out of the hallway, eyes bleary with tears. 

“she didn’t make it out of surgery. she passed.” 

all of them (for the exception of Bruce), immediately bursted into tears. Tim more than anyone had fell to the ground, having no control of his body as he screamed that it couldn’t be true and that you weren’t actually gone. a part of Bruce’s heart broke seeing his son having a mental breakdown but he knew for their safety and yours, he couldn’t say a word. 

the following days were left to plan your funeral as the nurses who relied your wishes stated that you wanted a closed casket for no one, not even Tim, to see your dead body. Tim hadn’t spoken a word to anyone as he only spoke up when it came for him to plan your arrangements. 

they buried your casket with your uniform laying on top of it as they all saw your casket get lower and lower to the ground. Tim was by this point sobbing as he couldn’t have cared who saw and who didn’t. 

+

Dick grabbed Damian, moving themselves to another part of the room as you walked slowly to Tim. he had yet to say anything but as soon as you locked eyes with him, you both let out sobs to each other. Tim grabbed you by the arms, bringing you into a hug as he sobbed into your shoulders. 

“what the fuck is going on?” he yelled, not knowing what to say, “I’m alive Timmy. I didn’t die that night,” you practically sobbed back to him. he released you, now anger and sadness crossing over him, “what the fuck do you mean you didn’t die?” he screamed, scaring Dick and Damian in the process. 

you sat on the ground, trying to compose yourself, “I went on an undercover mission for league. I had to die in order to protect not only myself but all of you and the entire league. which explains why I look different,” you murmured the last part. 

“I thought you were dead. for years, I thought you were dead! and I hate that I still love you and never moved on!” he exclaimed, seeing the way you stared at him heartbrokenly, “you think I wanted this to happen? it was for the betterment of the league if I took on this mission. I never wanted to leave you or Steph, hell I didn’t want to leave any of you but I had too! it broke my heart knowing what I had to do!” you yelled back. 

Tim bent down, taking you into his arms, “what the hell are we going to do?” he whispered in your ear, not knowing how to respond to any of this rationally. you shrugged as the two of you tried to calm yourselves down from the hysterics you both were throwing, “I just need you here with me,” you whispered back. 

Tim nodded, not releasing you from the hug you were giving him. “I won’t. I won’t let you go! not anymore!” he replied. you laughed through your tears as you heard someone else walk into the room. 

“what the fuck.....” you heard Steph and Jason’s voice scream through the Batcave, “what the FUCK is going on?” they screamed in panic. 

hehehe a cliffhanger 

[ssatoritendou]

Dinner for Three

Pairing: Chuuya/reader

Chuuya Nakahara

Word count: 1.4k

+ summary: After a day being tormented by Osamu Dazai all you want to do was spend time with the lovely Chuuya...but an enemy has other plans for both of you

Genre: fluff

Warning: mentions of weapons

“Osamu I don’t get why I have to wear a face mask?”

In a whiney tone, with a pout, the dangerous mafioso responded, “___ it’s a disguise. No one can tell who you are.”

“Osamu, putting me in a suit, a face mask, and a different hairstyle won’t fool anyone. Besides we are in headquarters. Everyone knows we work together.” You argued with him.

“Boo-hoo for trying to make our day fun. And make you look interesting.” He laughed with an evil smirk.

“Keep talking Dazai, you’ll end up in more bandages.” You mumbled.

You were going through the paperwork you had to finish filling out and filing.

“___ I’m bored.”

You sighed, “Osamu maybe if you did your paperwork on time, we could be out on a raid or literally anything else.”

“Why would I do it? When I have a pretty Belladonna doing it for me.”

You chuckled with a sinister smile under your mask but to Dazai it looks like you liked the compliment. “Actually I’m doing Nakahara a favor.”

He faked a pain in his heart and fell out of the chair. “How dare you do that dog a favor! You are supposed to be my associate, not his!”

“Osamu you do realize we all work together, you might be my mentor but I’m friends with everyone.”

“And to think I gave you...what did I give you again?”

“Hmm...” you thought “you gave a roll of bandages. I think you even said over drinks used them when you have horrible injuries. Then you poured Chuuya’s wine into his hat. We were asked to leave Lupin. If Odasaku was there controlling what you were drinking maybe we wouldn’t have been kicked out.”

“You just said Chuuya. You never call him Chuuya. Always Nakahara, Mr. Nakahara, and Executive Nakahara.”

“Did I? Careless mistake. You say it all the time must have picked it up.” You said with a shrug finishing the last paper for Chuuya.

Knowing full well you messed up. You weren’t supposed to call him that outside of the home. You were supposed to meet him tonight for dinner. But now the ever so clever mafioso idiot Dazai Osamu, was glaring at you.

“Do you have any idea what you want to do or what we should do? Besides play dress up. Heard anything from Ogai?”

He looked down at his desk filled with paperwork. “No, I guess I have to meet Akutagawa soon.”

“So I can go home?” You asked excitedly.

“Yeah yeah. Keep the phone on though.”

You left headquarters and went home. You plopped on your couch loosening your tie.

“Hey baby,… what are wearing?” He looked you up and down.

“Dazai wanted to play dress-up today. He said it was a “disguise”.” You told your boyfriend.

He growled at the mention of Dazai. “I’m sorry he tortured by that asshole.”

“Chuuya that is not a kind way to describe our friend.”

He rolled his eyes. “He is a suicidal maniac and a piece of shit. Do not call him my friend.” He growled.

“Ok, sweetie. I’m going to get ready for dinner.” You told him.

“You still want to go out even with the suspicious sociopath out there?”

“I just spent the entire day with a bored Dazai, he dressed me up as Mori does with Elise. I deserve a night out at my favorite restaurant with my big bad mafioso boyfriend is going to take me there.”

“He dressed you like the way Mori does with Elise?!” He yelled, taking that small comparison away from your statement.

“Dinner. Tonight Chuuya.”

“You were right. We are needed the night out.” Chuuya said sipping his wine.

“It pays to be in the mafia with multiple restaurants willing to close just for you.”

Chuuya hummed to that as you both raised your glasses clinking them.

You two were in a comfy corner in the party room restaurant, arched doors closed, large paints hanging off the walls, maroon carpeted floors, a private bar across from the door, and a table lit by candlelight. A fine red wine Chuuya picked for you two tonight. Him even pinning his hair tonight under his fedora.

You recently saw an old picture when he first entered the Port Mafia with short hair. You casually mentioned you liked how he looked in his teens. He nearly chopped off his beautiful long ginger hair with a pair of kitchen scissors. You threw a knife in his direction to stop him from doing so. You adore his long locks, loved calming him down with running your fingers through his hair. Or when he had a pretty stressful day brushing it for him and braiding it, that ultimately lead to him braid yours in return.

“So please tell me how was your day today My Love.” You asked him.

“Pretty boring had to go over shipments coming in from the north, that was early in the morning. Then there was the delivery process. I was able to go for a short bike ride briefly, nearly got mugged by a kid on the street. He looked like he was starving I didn’t blame him I’ve been there. So I gave him so cash and a card just in case he needs a family.”

“Ever so kind My God.”

“What did I tell you about calling me your god.” He brought down his hat to cover his face flush from the comment.

“It’s only true, Mr. Executive.” You said teasingly knowing that gets a rise out of him. You started to play footies with his legs under the pristine white table cloth.

“I would like to go to dinner once where we actually eat and not having me rush home because you can’t behave.” He growled at you grabbing your thigh possessively.

You giggled. “Sorry for teasing you.” You liked down at your wine glass twirling your finger around the edge. You noticed a strange reflection in the glass.

“Chuuya duck.” You said in a calm manner.

You both hit the deck just as a rain of fire of bullets was coming from the main dining room.

You flipped the table over as the both of you made your way to the bar.

“Can you use your ability?”

“I can’t see who is out there or how many. They are covered.”

“And we are pinned down.” You sighed.

So this is how you and Chuuya, the love of your life were going to die. Pinned down in your favorite restaurant being killed by Port Mafia enemies.

“What can you do with a blowtorch?” Chuuya asked pulling it up from under the shelf.

“Depends how much do you like that jacket?”

He smirked and started ripping the jacket up. Putting the ends in liquor bottles. You turned on the blowtorch, starring at the beautiful flame.

Chuuya was smirking happily watching you ready to burn down a building and give him an opening to kill these men that were trying to kill you.

He saw one of the bullets and saw an interesting logo on the side.

“…Mori Corp.” He said with an angry low tone. “Don’t, we can’t kill them.”

“What they are shooting at us?”

“They are blanks. Look at the shells.”

“Son of a bitch, Osamu Dazai!” You yelled across the restaurant. You stood up from behind the bar. “The next person who shoots, I will have your head and Chuuya will play with your decapitated head.”

Chuuya face went blank after you said that.

“Ok ok boys you heard the little lady. You can all go home.” Dazai said with an evil smirk.

You jumped over the bar into the main dining hall grabbing the bandage freak by the neck.

“What the hell Dazai! You tortured me all day and I wanted to relax with my boyfriend and you had to ruin it.” He was laughing, “Why the hell are you laughing your maniac?!”

“You said Chuuya is your boyfriend.”

“That is what this is about?!” Chuuya yelled at him from the side.

“Now, Now you two, you were keeping a secret from your best friend. You should have told me because you didn’t you got shot at.” He said with his dead stare.

“You are psycho.” You sighed holding your head in hand. You flipped the table back up pulling three chairs over. “Are you idiots coming to eat or not?”

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] Mafia!Hongjoong - Fateful

word count: 2.2k warnings: explicit language, gun use, death, mentions of alcohol summary: a feisty baby for a feisty scorpio a/n: I started writing this so loyal to mafia!ateez but now that I’ve watched kingdom, I’ve changed my mind - I wanna be a pirate hoe.

“You forgot your toothbrush.” You said, sat by the desk, arms crossed. “Good thing I didn’t finish unpacking right, you can take your shit just the way it came in the boxes, hmm?” You didn’t get angry very often due to the pure fact that your expectations for your boyfriend were so low at this point. The way that your words, let alone your face, held no emotion terrified the boy. He shuffled around your apartment, gathering his things with eyes to the ground in guilt.

“Can you hurry up? I have places to be.” You said, fingers massaging your temple.

Stopping in his tracks, the boy turned to you with pleading eyes for the nth time today, “Baby, I’m so sorry, please, I didn’t mean to hurt you like tha-”

“I’m sorry, what? You disrespected me, not hurt me, there’s a difference-”

“Why are you doing this to me? You know I love you.” He pleaded.

“Is that a serious question right now? You cheated with my assistant in your first week as intern at my firm, then tried and miserably failed to gaslight and manipulate me into believing your lies which I find pretty bold considering that I’m literally a lawyer. I respect the attempt though.”

“Baby, it was an acci-”

“No, shut up, I’m not done speaking. And you did this while I bought out this apartment for you because I felt bad for your sorry ass having to live with your dumb friends. I had to spoon feed you through law school and now through life too? You should be grateful that I’m letting you leave with all your things considering I bought them all too.”

He stood there with his hands gathered, staring back at the floor again.

“What. You got nothing to say? I thought so. You gonna leave now or what?” You questioned. He took his boxes, feet dragging across the floor to the door. You rolled your eyes as you closed the door on him. Before needing to look for a new intern and a new assistant, you needed a drink more than anything.

-

It was a regular Friday evening at the bar for Hongjoong and the boys. In celebration of Ateez’s successful expansion of their ‘business ventures’, Hongjoong had decided to spend the rest of the day at their usual spot. Despite having been set up for the sole purpose of laundering their dirty money, Bar 1117 was doing ironically well. Due to the nightlife business booming, Hongjoong had gained another alibi to keep him under the radar and he couldn’t be more comfortable with where his life was at.

“No, I reckon it’s Yeosang” San said, bringing the glass of whisky to his lips.

“I back that, he’s not got the emotional capacity for it.” Woo agreed, laughing.

“Yeah, just because I don’t take any of your shit doesn’t mean I’ll do the same to my wife. I bet Mingi. He’s definitely getting married last.” Yeo rebutted.

“What wh-”

Before Mingi could finish, Seonghwa cut through, “Considering our line of work, no one’s gonna be getting married any time soon. Right Joong?”

Turning to the leader of the boys, Seonghwa saw that Hongjoong had his head turned away from the conversation, eyes scanning up and down a figure at the bar. Hongjoong was never a man to be distracted by anything or anyone, always focused on his business so it was a rare occurrence for him to be looking so intently at a person. The boys catching onto this, they followed his gaze to a man sat so close to the lucky person’s face, his facial expressions showing his desperation for a way to break down their walls.

“This might be interesting…” Wooyoung smirked.

-

“I genuinely couldn’t care less.” You said, head cocked to the side in your hand, staring dead straight into the man’s eyes. However, the man had no intention of ever stopping his speech as he sat next to you at the bar.

“Come on, you really don’t know my father? He was in today’s paper?” He carried on as you zoned out of the conversation and occasionally cringed at the man’s stale breath, wondering how many more men were going to be responsible for the deepening wrinkles between your brows. As you took a sip from your drink, you locked eyes with a blonde-haired man across the room. His features were delicate yet sharp like the thorn of a rose, or a shard of glass, eyes twinkling with mischief. He raised his glass at you and smirked, amused by the situation that you were in.

“Listen here, bitch-” The man grabbed your wrist, forcing your attention back to him, “You’re gonna take the drinks I buy you, listen when I speak and sit pretty like a woman is supposed to.” He spat.

“Grrrr, scary.” You crudely imitated the growl in the man’s voice, still uninterested, “What a man your mother raised. I bet she’s proud, hmm?”

Anger radiating from the man’s body, he grabbed the glass out of your hand and threw it at the wall behind you, missing your face by inches.

“Oh, so now you’re going to scare me into sleeping with you? You need to brush up on some people skills.” You laughed, throwing you head back. You only composed yourself to grab the man’s collar, causing him to stumble off his stool. “You want to throw another glass at me? Try it.”

You hadn’t noticed the blonde-haired man stroll up to your table seeing that you were so caught up in the situation.

“Hi, I’m Hongjoong. How’s your night going? Anything I can help you with?” He asked, rubbing his hands together, surprisingly composed despite the mess. You let go of the man as the name triggered something in your head, remembering it being mentioned a few times behind closed-door meetings with your father.

“Are all the whores around here like this? I came here for some fun and this is how I’m treated? Fuck this place and every one of you here.” The man started at Hongjoong. You sat there, curling your fists ready to punch the man this time but Hongjoong noticed and interjected.

He placed his hands on the ledge of the table, leaning forward to obstruct the space between you and the man. As he did, you noticed the glimpse of a gun hanging from inside his fitted jacket, the slick shine of the metal winking at you in the light.

“I’d rather die than come to this shithole again.” The man carried on and you noticed the mischievous glint that was once in Hongjoong’s eyes finally fade to black.

“Oh, sure thing, I don’t think I want to see you here again anyway.” Hongjoong muttered and what happened in the next few seconds flew by so fast it barely registered in your brain.

The blonde-haired man reached into his jacket to pull the handgun out and shoot the man clean between the brows. At the same time, you pointed the small pistol you always kept concealed on your body at Hongjoong in reflex, having been taught to react to the sound of gunmetal in this way since you were a child.

Once you realised that the bullet wasn’t intended for you, you sensed seven pairs of eyes trained on you. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw that the boys once sat at Hongjoong’s table were all stood up, half of their guns out pointed to the man, and the other half at you, the next possible threat to their leader.

It was then that you realised that this man was the leader of Ateez, Seoul’s biggest underground organization responsible for the running of the city. It may have been politicians and businessmen in the spotlight, but behind the curtains, it was Ateez pulling at their puppet strings.

“Easy with that, angel.” Hongjoong turned to you smiling and raised a hand at the boys to lower their weapons. He continued chuckling, “I felt like you might have an attitude, but I didn’t expect this from you.”

As if it were a regular occurrence, two barmen came round to dispose of the body and your eyes followed, gun still pointing at the blonde man. Using the tip of his fingers, he gently lowered your gun to point at the floor.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, “I know some people that can sort that out.”

“Yeah those people are my paralegals paying off police in their missing persons hunts and forging their death certificates.”

Everything had fallen into place for you in that brief encounter. You knew that your father and his firm were involved in some dark business, but you never questioned it. Respecting your father’s wishes in telling you that keeping you in the dark was keeping you safe, you let it go.

However, it was only a few years ago that he had begun to tell you about his private dealings as consigliere to the organisation Ateez. That recently, his age-old friend had stepped down as mob boss and handed everything down to his son. Chuckling at how much he saw the image of his friend in the young blood, he mentioned that you would be in a similar position, that you too would be handed the law firm and become consigliere by tradition.

You had always expected to take up this mantle since you were young, as you figured that the men coming to your house for private meetings while you played in the garden did not treat you with unparalleled respect for no reason. You just didn’t realise that it would mean for you to be so heavily tied with the illicit world of the mafia then.

From then on, you trained close by your father’s side, learning the ins and outs of the world of jurisdiction, though you were never exposed directly to the ongoings with the mafia as your father had said, “the time will come when it needs to.”

“Then I guess today is the day.” You whispered to yourself smiling, you held your hand out to Hongjoong. “I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my father has always spoken very highly of you.”

Confused at first, a spark was ignited in Hongjoong as the shine returned to his eyes, and the amused smirk to his lips, your name triggering something in him. Realising that you were the daughter to one of the men he most respected in his life, he took your hand and brought it to his face to kiss gently, “And it’s a pleasure to meet you too, I’ve heard a great deal about you as well, but who knew my future right-hand man would be so hot.” He said as he flashed a sly smile.

The more he observed, the flames within Hongjoong only grew as he could sense the fire in you too. The most beautiful person he had ever set eyes on was to be his consigliere? Couldn’t be any more perfect. He wondered what more you could achieve together and pictured only pure wildfire.

“You better watch your mouth Mr. Kim, unless you want to start a war between the family before I even take up my position.”

“Of course, I have nothing but respect for you and your father. I was told that I wouldn’t be meeting you until he was to step down from his position, but I guess my lucky stars have aligned perfectly tonight.”

“Also, I’m more than capable of dealing with these things myself, there was no need for you to play knight in shining armour.”

“Sure, holed up in your guarded palace of a law firm, you’ve never had experience in the real world. Things are different here and what happened at this bar is just the cusp of it, princess.” He rebutted voice dripping honey, flirting his way through the conversation.

“But who is it advising your every action and saving your asses in the courtrooms, hmm?”

You and Hongjoong continued to jab at each other while the boys sat back in disbelief at the situation. Common people would have run the other way as soon as a gun was shot in their vicinity. So for you to have pulled one out in retaliation and furthering that, started arguing with their Captain, it was a sight to see.

“Bets on who’s going to win this one?” Yunho broke the silence.

“I’m betting tonight’s drinks on the lady.” Mingi said, throwing his black card onto the table.

“Me too, Hongjoong hyung looks too smitten for pride games right now.” Jongho agreed.

“Looks like we’ve got our first to tie the knot then.” San chuckled, nudging at Wooyoung who replied, “Hmmm, she doesn’t look like the typical housewife type though.” Analysing the unmatched confidence exuding from your body language.

Soon after, Hongjoong led you to the table of boys, pulling a chair out for you.

“Guys, this is Y/N L/N, future consigliere to Ateez, and not to mention, my future wife.” He smirked, eyes glowing.

“Carry on and I’ll be future Captain by regicide, Hongjoong,” you shot him a glare as you took your seat, “considering our fateful encounter, it looks like I’ll be seeing you more often with my father now, I hope we can get along.”

You poured yourself a glass of whisky and smiled while Hongjoong could already sense the eventful days ahead with none other than you by his side. -

Mafia AU Masterlist

[lazarettta]

The Babysitter

Characters ( Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader )

Rating (T) Word Count ( 2.9k) Warnings ( None, bad flirting, writing while intoxicated)

“For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

It was another late night studying on the living room floor of the Mayfair-Richards household. It wasn't uncommon for you to spend a majority of your nights here during the week and sometimes the weekend if you were needed and you usually weren't. Not that you would've minded anyway, your weekends weren't busy—mostly spent either dead asleep or trying to get out of plans you didn't want to be a part of anyway to get more sleep.

But it wasn't everyday that you were able to work for a Senator either, so even if you were busy, you weren't going to tell Ally Mayfair-Richards that. Not that she was a mean boss or anything, she was the Senator for crying out loud. And...okay yes, maybe you idolized the woman a little though it may be because you're studying law but honestly who wouldn't idolize this woman? She went through so much shit getting to this point in her life and career.

And she was hot. She was really hot but you kept it in your pants, but your eyeballs? Different story. You were just grateful that she chose you to watch her son when she was away, especially after you knocked over your entire cup of tea in her living room on the very carpet you were sitting on, and you were just a hot mess.

You thought you blew the whole thing, but the moment she produced the NDA to you a few days later when she called you back for a 'second interview' which included Ozzy this time, you'd been ecstatic and nearly knocked over another fucking cup but Ally was faster than you that time.

The giant TV was playing in front of you across the room but it was just the news channel but the volume was pretty low because Oz was asleep upstairs and you weren't really watching it anyway, you had your airpods in listening to Beyoncé and trying to create a decent scenario for one of the ten theories your professor assigned. It was due the next day so you thought picking the easiest one would work in your favor but it was turning out to be your worst nightmare—and you'd regretted choosing sleep over this, kind of.

You'd been so engrossed in your work, and music, you didn't hear the front door open and shut somewhere behind you or hear Ally quietly talking on the phone, her high heels click clacking on her polished wood floors as she came into the living room. Ally paused slightly at the sight of you and her coffee table, your books and yellow pads scattered everywhere, your head bopping slightly to whatever you were listening to as you scribbled away.

Ally smiled softly, and continued on her way upstairs to check on Ozzy knowing that she was going to find him safe, clean and fast asleep with a full belly. You'd been his nanny for four months now and you were such a blessing for Ally, she'd been reluctant to hire and trust another person with her baby boy but her career was too demanding and Ozzy was only ten. He could stay home alone for a few hours maybe, but not days or even a week or two.

After everything, Ally did have cameras around her home on the outside and she had one directly over the stairs because it overlooked the foyer and parts of the living room from an angle. She didn't want too many camera's inside of her home in case they were hacked but she wanted something at least.

Ozzy's room was dark except for his nightlight by the door and Ally quietly made her way inside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing his curls from his face. She was ever thankful that he finally stopped having those horrible nightmares, it meant that she wasn't wasting her money on therapy sessions.

When Ally came back downstairs, you were predictably in the exact same spot you were in and Ally finally did away with her coat, placing it over the spine of the sofa and she stepped out of her heels before coming around and plopping herself down, careful not to knock over your stack of books.

The sudden movement startled you out of your skin and you quickly pulled out your airpods and looked at your boss, “Hey! Sorry, how long have you been home?”

Ally smiled down at you tiredly, practically sinking into the sofa and you could feel her exhaustion rolling off of her in waves, and you couldn't help but sympathize because damn, and you thought you were tired.

“I just got in, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, things got busier than I expected and then everything went into chaos.”

You smirked when she threw her hands up half heartedly with a roll of her eyes, “Would a glass of wine help?”

“No, but it would definitely be a start if you join me for a glass?” she raised an eyebrow, and as much as you wanted to say yes you've already procrastinated enough and you really didn't need alcohol in your system around her lest you say something you absolutely shouldn't.

“I would but I have to finish this and it's getting late. Do you mind waiting up until my Uber gets here?”

“It's really late, you should just stay the night, (Y/n).” Ally sat up then, waving away your comment, though now she was closer and hovering over you a bit, “I'll take you home tomorrow after breakfast, that sound fair?”

It wouldn't be the first overnight stay but it would definitely be the first time that she'd be home too and you just couldn't say no to that even though you probably should have insisted more that you go home, but you accepted her offer without further debate. You'd gone back to your assignment, minus the airpods this time, and Ally got up to go to the kitchen and you could hear her fixing herself a glass of wine.

Ally set a bottle of water next to you on a coaster before settling back in her spot and finding something to watch on TV, and of course you noticed that she was a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

Your pen had paused on the yellow paper and your eyes glanced over the same sentence three times before your mind processed that you could practically feel the heat from her legs next to your arm through her slacks, and if you leaned just an inch you'd be touching her. You fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, but instead you looked up from beneath your lashes and saw that she was browsing the movie channels at a snail's pace.

Behind you, Ally was sipping her wine in one hand and flipping channels with the remote in the other but her eyes were nowhere on the TV screen. But she noticed the moment your pen stopped moving and your shoulders tensed more than usual, she'd been watching you closely and curiously.

“You okay, honey?”

You turned around to answer her with what you hoped was a calm smile and wished that you hadn't, really. Ally was going to kill you sitting the way she was sitting, her energy screaming big dick and the top three buttons of her shirt were undone and her hair was a little messy. Either she was going to give you a heart attack or your libido would.

“Sweetheart?”

You blinked, coming back to reality so fast you would’ve gotten whiplash, “Uh, yeah...maybe I guess I’m just tired too.” Yeah right.

You chuckled nervously, embarrassed really, and licked your lips again and Ally tracked the movement with rapt attention not that you would've caught it because you were busy being mortified being caught staring like a creep.

“Are you sure? You look flushed, drink some water,” you smiled at Ally, ever the mom.

“I’m not—” not what? Thirsty? Yeah you were but not for some water.

“You’re not what?” Ally pressed, still holding you hostage with her eyes alone.

“Not thirsty for water.”

Ally raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching and you hate that you noticed, “Oh? Then what would you like to drink if it’s not wine or water?”

Good question. One you didn’t have a good answer to. Not trusting yourself to formulate words into an appropriate sentence, you just nodded and turned back around and grabbed the water she brought you. You were determined to ignore until you were finished with your work—for the sake of your sanity and dignity.

Fuck.

Still watching you, Ally laughed quietly into her wine glass and finally settled on a movie, keeping the volume low as she got comfortable. Deciding to let you off the hook for not answering her question. (This time.)

~~

A few days later...

It was another late night for you but you weren't working for Ally tonight, so you went to the gym instead after studying. You were still wearing your tights and sports bra when you left, only throwing on a jacket because the night air and sweat weren't a great mix.

You didn't have anything at home to eat that wasn't expired or so frozen it came from the ice age...it all went in the trash so all you had left in your fridge was a case of water and cheese sticks. It wasn't surprising though, you spent a majority of your free time at Ally's home and you just ate lunch and dinner there usually. So you went straight to the grocery store after your workout with your trainer.

“Hey (Y/n)!” you looked up and internally groaned, rolled your eyes and threw a whole bitch fit.

You offered Sean a tight near sarcastic smile, “Sean. What is up.”

“Nothin',” he said, leaning against the counter he was standing behind with a cheesy smile, his eyes leering—and it made your skin crawl, “Just working...you?”

“Uh,” you were already over this conversation, “Same, anyway—”

“You still work for that crazy killer lesbian?”

You stopped, pivoting back around slowly to see if he was joking or not, of course it was hard to tell because he was looking at your ass, but the minute he turned around his eyes laser beamed to your chest. Specifically your pebbled nipples and the bars pierced in them. You moved the labels of your jacket to cover them fucking pig.

“Uh, my eyes are up here and two, that 'crazy killer lesbian' is your Senator.”

He shrugged, “I didn't vote for her.”

“I'm...okay, it was nice talking to you but I have things to do.”

“Well, wait,” he moved in front of you, stopping your escape, “That's not what I wanted to talk to you about actually, uh, but listen...do you maybe wanna go to dinner with me this weekend? My treat?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed with his audacity, “You literally just called my boss a crazy killer lesbian and now you're expecting me to go to dinner with you?” as if, you wanted to add but held yourself in check—barely.

“I'm sorry about that,” Sean only shrugged but he was bashful about it but it only served to irritate you further because it was obvious that he didn't quite mean it and you were mentally slapping yourself for just not ordering that damn pizza.

“Whatever, goodnight Sean.”

you tried to move around him but he shifted, keeping you in place and you knew you could've just turned around, you should've but he would've just followed you, “Well wait, you never answered my question. About dinner?”

“No.”

“Well, wait a minute...why not? The lesbian thing? It was just a joke. You can take one, can’t you?”

“And I'm not laughing, get the fuck outta my way Sean—”

“You—”

“I believe she told you to fuck off.”

Sean's eyes snapped up over your head slightly, and you would've laughed at his stupid face had you not been pivoting around yourself, your eyes meeting a very familiar chin and you looked up, but Ally's eyes weren't on you but instead glaring daggers into Sean. He'd be ten feet under if she got her way with that look. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. (Maybe another version of it...)

“S-senator?”

“Oh, I'm not the crazy killer lesbian anymore? How disappointing.” when Sean could only stare at her like a fish out of the water, Ally stepped forward—a lot closer to you and you didn't have the strength to move or even look away, “I believe you were told to leave. Oh and if I even hear that you looked at or said anything to (Y/n) incorrectly, you're going to have a lot worse than a harassment complaint from a Senator to deal with.”

You didn't see him leave but you heard the squeaks of his sneaker and in seconds flat you and Ally were alone in the cereal aisle and you had absolutely no idea how to even breathe at the moment, much less process that she just saved you from...whatever that even was.

When Ally was satisfied that Sean was gone, she finally looked down at you—there was still a fire in them that you couldn't place but her brown eyes were softer than they were a few seconds ago, and you felt your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat, taking a small step back—but you still felt exposed under her unblinking stare though not in the same way you felt with Sean, it was the complete opposite, “Yeah thanks to you, so um thanks...a lot. Your timing is impeccable, but what are you doing here so late? Where's Oz? Is he okay?”

Ally smiled at you, shaking her head disturbing her always perfect hairstyle, “Oz is fine, or at least he will be, he must've ate something today at school and it's not sitting well with his stomach,” Ally rolled her eyes but not at the fact that her son had food poisoning but that he had food poisoning from the school lunch. She could only imagine that other children—reforming school lunches was already on her agenda but now she was seriously considering moving ahead of schedule.

“Oh no, how bad?”

“Not too bad...he'll be okay, I'm just here for medicine to stock up on,” Ally reassured you, her eyes flickering over your shoulder for a second, “What are you doing out so late?” and wearing that? She mentally added, but held her tongue because she knew that it wasn't her place to comment on your attire—not that she was complaining about it, but Ally just didn't like the way Sean was leering at you either. She was a hair away from showing him how she earned her title.

Suddenly aware of how much skin you were showing, and that your jacket fell open again but unlike with Sean you didn't feel the need to really cover yourself (even though you knew that you should've). You appreciated her eyes more than his...and probably anyone else's.

“Oh, I went to the gym and since I don't have any food at home...”

Ally chuckled, “Is this your way of asking for a raise?”

“No! No, no you pay me plenty...I'm just too busy to cook is all and then I'm just too tired to eat sometimes. College life.”

“I was teasing, welcome to adulthood. It doesn't stop,” you laughed along with her but you both knew there was truth behind those words.

“I shouldn't keep you, I know you have things to do.”

“You know, I doubt you're going to get a decent nutrient meal here tonight, especially shopping while you’re hungry...” Ally hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something before opening her mouth to carefully speak those words, “You're more than welcome to come home with me for a late dinner if you have nowhere else to be. I'd be more than happy to feed you.”

Heh. Feed me what? You blinked, mildly surprised with how fast your mind went straight to the gutter and you felt your face heating up faster than a house fire, and you had no doubt in your mind that your boss knew exactly what she was doing to you.

But she didn't, Ally didn't have one clue to what was happening in your mind because her own mind was a pile of scrambled eggs while forcing her eyes to stay above your neck. You were both very much still in public.

And the last thing Ally wanted to do was make either you a cliché, especially with her being a public figure in a male dominant career field, both in politics and her restaurant.

“Unless you had your sights set on cereal?” Ally coughed lightly, suddenly nervous and you realized that you'd been standing there staring at her like a moron this whole time.

“No, I'd love to come home with you,” you said cheerfully, meaning every damn word for different reasons, and you smiled at her, before your eyes widened when realizing how forward you sounded, and suggestive as hell, “For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

Direct result after two blunts...sorry if it's kinda lame tho lmao I went in thinking I was writing smut and gave up somewhere

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation. 

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)

OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...) 

A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.

“We can’t go on like this anymore”

He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.

“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling. 

“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.

“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.

The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand. 

“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone. 

“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.

Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle. 

“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking. 

Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.

“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.

“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound. 

“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.

Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night. 

---

The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store. 

The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;

“One boulevardier“ 

He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me” 

You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.

“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?

He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.

“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”

Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.

“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.” 

“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.

He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him. 

“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips. 

“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.

“Former detective” he stated simply. 

Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink. 

“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”

Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine. 

“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby. 

“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”

He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests. 

“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning. 

“A job and you.” 

His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all. 

“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar. 

“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.

“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom. 

“W-wait,,, what are you-”

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment. 

Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you. 

“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing. 

You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.  Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him. 

“Already this wet, babygirl?” 

He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles. 

“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist. 

“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Turn around”

His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock. 

In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting. 

Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy. 

“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you. 

Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.

“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls. 

“Whatever you say”

He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots. 

The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release. 

“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.

“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?” 

A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed. 

“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak. 

In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”. 

“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable. 

“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you. 

[tothemeadow]

Oh yes my time is now! the standard pillar girls with a fem reader vs the boys playing splatoon 2’s tower control. Once again they lose(that’s becoming too frequent 😭) and the punishment for them is that they have to wear a typical anime sexy bunny costume, the reader is shy cuz she got small tiddies and the boys keep trying to peel the top part open to look at them 👀 and she’s like 😳(not to mention I got sensitive hips so everytime they hold her hips she’s just like 😳😳😳)

I need to get my ass moving on these requests 💀

‘tower troubles’ / Pillars x Reader

warnings: spicy

words: 1,383

(a/n): Muichiro is 18+ in this!

-

“Come on, ladies! Give it your all! We won’t let those fuckers take this land!” you yell.

“Right!” Misturi exclaims.

Shinobu nods her head, a determined expression on her face.

Across the screen, it’s a complete mess of teal and yellow ink. You’re hanging on by strings, too stubborn to give up your position on top of the tower. You wish the damned thing would move faster so you could win already!

“It’s funny that you think you’ll win so easily!” Kyojuro chirps. Compared to what the other guys usually say, his “taunts” are usually nice.

“Knock them off already,” Obanai sighs. “This is getting old.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?!” Mitsuri yelps. “If you want to take over the tower, you’ve got to try harder!”

And yeah, it does seem a bit ridiculous. Three against seven? Seriously? They should be slaughtering you, but, well, it’s not working in their favor, is it?

You shouldn’t think that way.

There’s a loud boom and then the tower is covered with yellow. You’ve just got splatted! Whoever scored a hit on your character is dead meat. Off to the side, Muichiro snickers. You hastily throw a glare at him, murderous intent in your eyes.

“Do you want to die?” you hiss.

“I do,” Giyuu mutters.

“Jesus, man, lighten up,” Tengen throws at him. “Besides, if you die, you’ll miss out on the flamboyant punishment!”

The mere idea of the planned punishment sends a shiver down your back. No, you mustn’t lose. You can’t. Not if you want to save your dignity, anyway.

“I’d rather him be dead them ogle at me,” Shinobu breathes.

Why is everyone so hellbent on killing Giyuu today?

Wait – no, take that back. In your damned moments of distraction, the timer on the top of the screen runs out for the opposing team. They’ve… they’ve won. The guys won.

“Son of a bitch!” you curse, tossing your Switch down. “This is bullshit!”

“There’s no need for violence,” Gyomei rumbles. He bows his head apologetically. “A fair match is what it was.”

Sanemi cackles. “Fucking right – seven against three. That’s fair alright. I like it.”

Tengen excitedly rubs his palms together, a look of pure mischief blooming on his face. “Alright, boys, now it is time.”

Mitsuri audibly gulps. “I want to go home.”

“I’m afraid not!” Kyojuro exclaims, drawing himself to a stand. He seemingly pulls out a paper grocery bag out of nowhere; crossing to you girls, he thrusts the bag into Mitsuri’s hands. “I think you should get the punishment out of the way, don’t you think? There’s no use in putting it off!”

“I swear to god…” Shinobu trails off.

Getting up from the couch, the three of you shuffle out of the room and into the bathroom, promptly shutting and locking the door behind you in the process. You reluctantly tug off your clothes, a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment creeping up your spine. Your skin feels too hot, the hairs on your neck and arms coming to a stand. This is not going to be fun.

“Hey, could one of you zip me up?” Mitsuri asks, her voice shy.

Turning to her, you nearly choke on your own spit. She’s already in the one-piece uniform, her bare back on full display. Holding her arms to her chest, she keeps the uniform steady so it doesn’t fall. Stepping over to her, you brush her long ponytail to the side and pull the zipper up. She looks too tempting like this, curves perfectly showcased by the costume, legs wrapped delicately in fishnet stockings. A pang of jealousy hits you in the stomach.

Glancing at your own chest, you sigh inwardly. You aren’t a brickhouse like Mitsuri; hell, even Shinobu has a bigger chest than you and she’s smaller than you are. As you look over to her, you can see her clasping the bowtie around her neck, a bored expression written on her face. She looks amazing in her uniform, so unbelievably sexy….

And then there’s you.

You shyly pull your costume on, careful to keep your breasts hidden from view. Mitsuri helps zip you up, her touch soft against your skin. Slipping the cuffs onto your wrists, you look at your reflection; the punishment consisted of the losers wearing sexy bunny costumes, Playboy style. You look like you belong in an underground cocktail bar.

“This is ridiculous,” Shinobu says, perching her bunny ears on top of her head. “I’m going to castrate Tengen in his sleep for coming up with this shit.”

“I think we look cute!” Mitsuri chirps, although her face is a bright red.

“Yeah,” you mumble, running a hand over your chest, “we look great.”

With a collective groan, the three of you emerge from the bathroom, the hardwood floors cool beneath your stocking-clad feet. Upon returning to the living room, the reaction you receive is instantaneous. Tengen, Kyojuro, Muichiro, and Sanemi all give you a round of applause, shit-eating smirks on their faces; Obanai chokes on his own spit while Giyuu casually crosses his legs; Gyomei simply gives a nod of approval.

“Meow,” Tengen purrs, clawing at the air with his fingers. “You ladies look divine.”

“I’m actually impressed,” Sanemi drawls. He waggles his finger in a come hither motion. “Come over here, bunnies.”

Shinobu curses underneath her breath. Either way, the three of you stalk over to where the others sit; you wring your hands, unease eating away at your insides. Sanemi promptly grabs onto your hips, urging you to sit in his lap. The simple touch is just enough; heat rushes across your skin, squeezes at your insides. He is stepping into some dangerous territory.

Sanemi’s a wild card – always was. Sure, he’s not outright coquettish as Tengen or Kyojuro, but he’s not completely innocent either. His fingertips dance up and down your hips; it’s like he knows the effect he’s having on your body. Well, it doesn’t help that you’re squirming, but still.

“You almost look cute like this,” Sanemi murmurs. Running his hands up your sides, they drift across your stomach, inching up further and further. Your entire body stiffens as they slip over your breasts, your breath catching in your throat. “Well, well, well,” Sanemi continues in a low voice, “sensitive, are we?”

You feel a wave of hot breath fanning over the back of your neck. “Lemme see,” Muichiro’s voice speaks up. You jolt as his hands roam your body, slipping down the curve of your spine, making you arch into his touch. “You’re not as well endowed as the others,” Muichiro murmurs into your ear. “But that just means they’ll fit in our hands better.”

“Oi, Giyuu,” Sanemi snaps, turning his head and glaring at the one sitting next to him, “are you gonna just sit there and watch?” He clicks his tongue. “Pathetic.”

The blush on Giyuu’s face darkens at Sanemi’s words. So far, he hasn’t done anything, but that’s fine with you. You don’t think you could handle another man’s touch right now. But no, Sanemi’s words spur him on; shuffling closer, he presses his hands to your thighs, his fingertips tracing over the lines of the stockings. “You look really pretty like this,” he grunts.

Heart fluttering at his words, you open your mouth to say something in return – to comfort him – but then an abrupt squeak comes out. Muichiro’s hands squeeze your breasts again, eager to have you make another noise like that.

“See? What did I tell you?” Muichiro purrs. “Perfect fit.”

“Don’t hog it all to yourself,” Sanemi growls. He quickly pushes Muichiro’s hands away, taking his turn at grabbing your breasts. He smirks at your reaction, at the little breathy groan slipping from your lips. “There we go, bunny. Just like that.”

Giyuu’s hands grow braver, bolder. He kneads at your luscious thigh, at your hip; you squirm in Sanemi’s lap, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to control yourself. Why must you be so sensitive?

“Let us see, come on,” Sanemi urges. Seemingly getting the memo, Muichiro’s fingers tug at the zipper of your costume just the slightest bit. “Let us look at those cute little tits.”

Wait – what?

“Please?” Giyuu murmurs.

“Bunny,” Muichiro says with a giggle, “give us a real treat.”

Oh, fuck.

[starlocked01]

Toddlers Scare the Living Shit Out of Me

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 4- Parents

WC: 3k

Summary: Virgil is very surprised when he's brought home by a fascinating stranger at the bar. A kid wasn't exactly what he agreed to in a one-night stand. Nor did he expect a relationship.

Content Warnings: Alcohol Use, Talk of divorce, Swearing, Mild gory language

@dukexietyweek

(also thank you @suchaswearemads for their OC Teddy 🧡)

Virgil was mildly aware that he might regret this if he lived until morning. His roommate would probably have a statistic at the ready about criminals luring victims away from clubs with whispered promises of sex or drugs, and how often they target gay men. Virgil snorted a laugh to himself. Poor Lo would kill him himself if he knew what Virgil was up to. This guy even looked the part of an unhinged surprise organ donation scheduler, all covered in spikes and tattoos of anatomical cross-sections all over his visible skin. If Virgil were any drunker, he'd probably mistake him for a skeleton or half dissected cadaver.

He really didn't care. He was drunk and Remus said pretty words that made him feel wanted. He'd follow the cadaver man halfway around the world like this. Exactly proving Logan right that he shouldn't go out drinking alone. He giggled and stumbled and giggled because he stumbled and the ground was spinning under his feet.

"What’s so funny, Dr. Gloom 'n' Giggles?" Remus caught Virgil and pulled him back upright, even as his brain fought to stay closer to the ground and made the whole damn world lurch in protest.

"Hey! 'M fine. Yourrr gonna kill me, bad man mad man. Fuuuuuuuck I had way too- didya spike 'e?" Virgil struggled to form a single, coherent sentence, feeling the alcohol's effects acutely and in increasing measure with each step towards doom and destruction.

Remus laughed, "ya caught me. Why don't I call you a taxi home?"

"Nooo! I sssaaid I'd come home withya- ssooo I am," Virgil shook his head and tried to stand and remain upright. His attempt lasted all of a second before Remus had to catch him again.

"Look, I don’t need you trying to puke all over my dick or something. I'm calling you a fucking cab," Remus tried to reason but Virgil heard none of it as he yanked himself away to hurl in the bushes.

"'M fine. Commmmming down," Virgil panted, trying desperately to steady himself. After several deep breaths and false starts, he managed to stay upright and reach for a steadying hand. Whatever had knocked him on his ass so quickly was also fading just as fast, "shiitt, did you spike my drink?"

"Nah, man. Come on, we're almost there."

---

Remus stared at this drunk little catch from the bar and was glad he was the one who'd picked him up. Someone must have tried something funny with his drink. Bad enough news for everyone else still at the club but at least this one was safe.

Remus shook his head and checked his phone to call a cab only to find the phone dead already. Shit. No way to warn Roman now. Remus waited for Virgil to finish puking his guts out on the neighbor's lawn, pretty dead set on getting this guy help as soon as they got home and he convinced Ro he needed a favor.

Slowly, he helped Virgil towards his front door, surprised at how fast the intoxication seemed to be turning around as Virgil got steadier on his own feet. Remus winced when he couldn’t find his keys and cursed when Virgil reached out and rang the doorbell.

"Stop! It's way too late for that!" Remus hissed as the door quickly opened to a very pissed-off looking Roman.

"Are you crazy! Pat's asleep- oh… oh who the fuck is this?" Roman asked, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him, "Remus, you promised tonight!"

"Ro, calm down. This is Virgil. Yes, I promised, but do you think you could take-"

"No!" Roman exclaimed furiously, "I have work tomorrow! I can't take Pat. Send Virgil home and be a grown-up for once!" Roman grumbled and turned abruptly back inside.

"Roman! Someone tried to spike him-" Remus hissed, pulling Virgil inside with him "-and before it hit, he was the best guy I've met in my life."

"Oh you mean just like Mr. Wonderful?" Roman snarked back in a low voice as he gathered his belongings. Remus winced at the reminder.

"Don't be a dick, brother dearest. That's my job. Please, I promise this time will be the last-"

"I can't! Teddy is already worried that I'm out this late. We love Patton but we're not raising him for you. You're not a kid anymore, Rem. Learn to date like an adult because we're not babysitting while you go out clubbing like this again," Roman huffed and stormed toward the door, "sorry to meet you like this, Virgil. I hope you feel better soon."

Virgil barely lifted his hand to wave as Roman left and shut the door with a dreadful finality. Remus slumped and sat at the foot of the couch Virgil had sprawled on.

"Sorry about him. How ya doing, Virgie?" Remus asked quietly.

Virgil groaned, "head hurts. Still tipsy. What the fuck did you do to my drink?"

"I didn't do anything but save you from whoever did," Remus shook his head and stood, "I'll get you some water. Or gatorade. Or milk. Fuck what do I even-"

Remus was suddenly cut off by clattering dishes and a small whimpering coming from the kitchen. In a few swift steps, he entered the kitchen and flicked on the lights to find a plate toppled from the counter to the floor, the fridge cracked open, and a toddler trying very hard to hide behind the trash can.

"Pattycake! What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?" Remus slapped on a grin and swooped the child into his arms with a grunt, "oh big boy. Getting too old to pick up like this."

Patton squeaked in his father's arms as he was lifted up, "got loud, Papa. Unkie Ro promised me a second cookie before bed."

"He did now?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised in mock shock.

"Mhmm. Said Unkie Teddy'd bring it. Where's Unkie Teddy?"

"Oh no! Ro was gonna call the cookie monster himself to get ya?" Remus gasped as he shifted his hold on the child and nudged the plate under the sink to take care of in the morning, "Uncle Ro promised you a cookie monster and didn't show up? That fiend!" Remus giggled with Patton as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge, shutting the door with his hip.

"Unkie Monsta!" Patton giggled, clinging to Remus’s neck.

"Mhmm. It's really late buddy. You should get back to bed," Remus cooed as he dropped one of the water bottles on Virgil’s chest.

"What the hell-?" Virgil tried to sit up, utterly confused who Remus was talking to now.

"Hey! You don't get to cuss in front of my kid until date five!" Remus snapped, holding Patton close. Virgil blinked at the baby blue eyes, curly blonde hair and the overwhelming amount of freckles as the child stared back at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Papa, who's that? He looks spiky," Patton whimpered, quickly hiding his face from Virgil.

"Baby, I'm spiky. I like spiky people," Remus carefully soothed, running a hand through soft curls, "he's one of Papa's new friends."

Virgil watched, unamused, "you didn't say that you have a kid. What, were you planning on bringing me back here with a toddler who could walk in and see anything?"

"Look, I was trying to ask my brother to babysit him overnight. You're hella cute but I didn't expect to make this introduction so quickly," Remus huffed, "Pattybear, be nice and say hi and then you best be headed back to bed, mister."

Patton peeked one eye out to appraise the stranger in his spot on the couch. After a long moment, he waved and barely audibly whispered a small, "hi."

Virgil smiled at the typical child response to his neon purple hair and uncountable piercings, but Remus laughed loudly, startling both the drunk man and the child, "oh Come on! That was weak shit, Pat-Pat. Say it like you mean it!"

"That's not necess-"

"HI!" the tiny voice bellowed over his protests. Father and son laughed together as Virgil sputtered.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, my little monster! Alright, enough fun. Back to bed, you rascal. Papa has to take care of the baby who drank too much apple juice," Remus beamed and set Patton down on the ground, waving as the child sped off back to his room.

"Cute kid. You didn’t mention a kid earlier," Virgil groaned and laid back down on the couch, head swimming.

"Yeah well, kids are chick magnets," Remus replied, not meeting Virgil’s eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'm into dudes…"

"And? It's not like a kid is gonna send good guys running," Virgil shrugged, very much regretting his choice of drinks that night.

"Yeah, you haven't run yet. But that was a very tired out and pacified little scamp you just met. You'll see in the morning- unless you wanted me to call you a cab now?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't wanna move," Virgil murmured, "but I would like kissesss."

"Direct. I like it," Remus smirked and slid down to kneel next to the couch, "but that would be taking advantage of your weakened defenses. Sleep it off and ask me in the morning."

Virgil whined and pouted at the denial, "please? I came all this way."

"Well, if you insist," Remus grinned and leaned in close. Virgil smirked and pulled Remus forward that last inch. Virgil tried hard to enjoy the kiss but the fact of the not yet sleeping child in another room tempered his desires greatly. After a minute, Remus pulled back and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch.

"To be continued, Dr. Love."

"Fine. Good night," Virgil sighed and watched Remus stand and leave the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

---

Virgil awoke the next morning to a warm palm pressed against his cheek. He slowly blinked his eyes open to find bright blue eyes framed with thin black wire-rimmed glasses. Squinting out the light to protect himself from the impending headache, Virgil finally recognized the child from the night before.

"Hey, Patton-"

"Angels sing and demons cry, but we can't tell the difference," Patton stated sweetly, head tilted to one side.

"Hey Kiddo, breakfast time!" Remus called from the kitchen, "is Virgil up yet?"

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine as the child giggled, patted his face, and called back, "yes Papa! We're coming!"

Virgil groaned and sat up slowly, sore from sleeping on the couch with his piercings still in. How he'd managed to fall asleep in skinny jeans absolutely baffled him, almost as much as the peculiar little kid staring at him expectantly.

"What d'ya want, kid?"

"A kitty!"

"I don't have a kitty."

Patton’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears and his lip quivered before the child ran screaming back to the kitchen.

Virgil was sorely tempted to roll back over and hope he woke up somewhere quieter, but the smell of bacon and the temptation of seeing Remus in the daylight pushed him to his feet.

The guy he'd met in the bar had practically disappeared once Patton showed up. Remus had been flirty and suggestive and very interested in Virgil all night but nothing in his behavior would have ever led Virgil to suspect he had a kid and was capable of acting so.. fatherly. The man’s duality was almost unsettling.

Virgil walked over and stood in the door of the kitchen, silently watching Remus encouraging the weeping little boy to sit down and eat toast. He still wasn't sure why Patton had thought he would have a cat with him, but the disappointment had surely gotten to the little fella.

Remus looked up and gave Virgil a tired grin, "heya, sleeping beauty. How's your head?"

"Threatening to disown me. I didn’t touch him. He asked if I had a cat," Virgil nodded to Patton, hoping that Remus didn't think he'd purposefully hurt the kid.

"Oh don't worry. He asks everyone. His dad promised him one and well, do you see a litter box?" Remus rolled his eyes, standing and guiding Patton to the table, "you'd think after so many empty promises, the kid would know better, right?"

"Wait… you're his dad, right?" Virgil frowned.

"Nope!" Patton giggled, twirling his spoon between his fingers, "Dada lives in the big house!"

"Patton, eat your breakfast!" Remus barked, not unkindly before turning back to Virgil with a sigh, "no offense, but Patton’s dad is not exactly first date story material. Neither is Patton but well, that can't be helped now."

Virgil bit his lip, "right. None of my business… Except I shouldn't be here if you're married."

"I'm not married, sweetheart," Remus held up his hand to show off the lack of a ring.

"And this mystery father isn't… ya know," Virgil drew a finger across his throat in a wordless question.

"I fucking wish! Look, it's none of your damn business, Virgil. You want breakfast or the door?" Remus snapped, turning back to the food on the stove.

Virgil sighed and sat down next to Patton at the table, idly arranging shaped blocks in a haphazard pattern, "I'm sorry. I just don’t want to get in the middle of something complicated without knowing that's what's up. Yo, got another triangle for me, Pat?"

Patton grinned and grabbed a triangle from the table before shoving it somewhat painfully into Virgil’s palm. Remus watched the interaction and sighed overly dramatically.

"Hey, baby, why don't you go get dressed and pick out a movie?" Remus ruffled Patton’s hair, "no horror movies today though."

"Awwwww but I love the scary ones," Patton moped but obediently left the table.

Remus waited until Patton was out of sight before replying, "look, I don't have any secrets. I got nothing to hide. The only complicated thing right now is custody. My ex and I are separated and don't talk. Hell, I try to get him to pick Pattom up from Roman and Teddy's every chance I get. I love the little tyke but his dad pisses me off."

Virgil bit his lip, "that does not sound ideal."

Remus shook his head, "it's not. Like one day you're planning a wedding and processing an adoption, then before you know it you're divorced and fighting with the man you love for custody of the child he said made him sick to look at." Remus gritted his teeth, "Pat deserves so much better…"

Virgil nodded along with Remus’s story, "so why go out clubbing during your time with Patton? He doesn't need two absent fathers."

Remus chuckled, "don't freak out, but the first one of us who remarries has a huge advantage in getting full custody. Because neither of us is biologically related to Pat-Pat, it's become way too much of a battle.

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, studying the grain of the wood in the table.

"It's alright," Remus shrugged, "you're alright, Virge. Can I get that number now?"

Virgil laughed and took the offered phone, "yeah, call me when you've got some free time and Patton is with his dad."

Remus grinned and pocketed the phone, "oh you'll see how this works, sweetheart."

---

Patton was nearly a constant whenever Virgil met with Remus, but at least Roman had been mollified by Remus having a steady date so he and Teddy resumed babysitting during more adult dates. The Remus he'd met at the bar never quite resurfaced in the same way, sometimes the actual image of the tatted-up punk caring for a sweet little angelic-looking demon spawn of a kid took Virgil by surprise, and sometimes he was shocked with the things this man would say to his kid. Teddy constantly questioned Virgil why he had stayed even after learning more about the whole situation.

Virgil wasn't certain why. Patton had definitely tried to scare him off a few times. The kid was terrifying when he wanted to be.

But this little family was so very compelling, and Virgil was more and more certain with each date that he wanted a place in it.

"So, sugar…"

"Yeah, Rem?"

"I have a modest proposal for you-"

"Nope. Not gonna eat babies."

"Wha-?"

"Oh, shoot I thought for sure you were talking about the satirical essay. What's up, babe?" Virgil winced and turned to face Remus.

"How would you… like to start the process to become one of Patton’s legal guardians?"

"You're asking your boyfriend to adopt your kid who already has two dads?"

"Well yeah, because-"

"Because then the paperwork is ready to sign right after the wedding," Virgil interrupted with a grin, "you sneaky son of a biscuit!"

Remus laughed, "please, baby?"

"Not my call, sweetheart," Virgil smirked, "hey, Pattycake!"

Little feet pounded down the hallway, Patton skidding to a halt in the kitchen, "yeah? Prince Sparkles is in danger so this better be important!"

"You can save the Prince soon enough, kid. How would you feel-" Virgil suddenly felt very nervous as the gravity of the question finally hit him, "-how would you like… another dad?"

"Umm.. do I have to meet him?" Patton looked disappointed and confused.

"No, Pat-attack, Virgil is asking if he can be your dad too," Remus explained gently.

"You aren't already? I demand you be my dad this instant!" Patton bellowed at Virgil, pouting with the most betrayed expression he could muster.

Virgil laughed, "don't worry kid, this is just gonna be the paperwork that makes it official. You know I got you."

"Yay! New Dad! New Dad!" Patton beamed and ran around the table to dive into Virgil’s arms. Virgil caught him with a grunt and leaned into Remus.

"I think that's a yes from me," Virgil murmured

"Most excellent. Now I've got both my boys!" Remus grinned and wrapped both in a bear hug to seal the deal.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

The Man Comes Around

Over at the Wen Indoctrination Tower, which seems to exist just to torture Lan Wangji with stair climbing, Lan Wangji is climbing the stairs. Too bad his cultivation level is too low to be able to just jump up. At least this time his leg isn't broken.

This is the first vengeful stair-climb in the show, but not the last. (Parallel gifset here).

The Wen guards are stationed all the way at the pinnacle of this tower to guard...what? Why are they not at the bottom of the stairs? What is this location for, actually? This is further up the stairs than the scenes with the indoctrination lectures. Anyway, it's been three months since Wen Chao threw Wei Wuxian into the burial mounds, so naturally these guards are talking about that exact thing as Lan Wangji approaches.

Lan Wangji knocks them all down with a blast from his guqin. Did you know his guqin is named Wangji, by the way? It is. A guy who is that lazy about naming his quqin maybe shouldn't feel so superior to a guy who named his sword "whatever." 

(I'm suddenly remembering a plush lamb I had as a child, whose eyes were orange, that I named "orange eyes.") (I, however, was three. And I had a lot of plush lambs. Little ones. Grown-ups found it hilarious to give them to me.) (Native speakers of English can probably guess what OP's real name is. Hint: it rhymes with Canary.) (Everybody else: there is a kid's rhyming song called Mary Had A Little Lamb. OP's name is Mary.)

Anyhoo, after Lan Wangji is finally finished with his dramatic entrance, Jiang Cheng comes flying in from wherever he's been hovering for the past 20 minutes of stair time. A bunch of Lan sidekicks also flood into the frame from wherever they were hiding during the wide shots of LWJ on the staircase.

In case you hope that CQL Lan Wangji is as much of a top (offscreen) as MZDS Lan Wangji is (on the page), here's a gif for you.

(more after the cut)

He uses the patented Lan string attack to choke this guard.  Lan Wangji doesn't have to hold a guqin string in his hands to choke someone with it. He doesn't even have to tighten it, judging by how absurdly not-tight this string is.

Or maybe this guy is choking on the chin strap of his helmet. This is exactly how OP's son reacts when OP sticks a bike helmet on him. (Note: it's GOOD that they are following choking safety protocols on set. Very good. However, they could have just left the string out and pretended, and it would look better, in this instance)

The Wen guard tells Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng about the whole "thrown into the burial mounds" thing.  Team Let's Find Wei Wuxian is not happy to hear this.

A Vengeful Ghost

Meanwhile, in some Wen office somewhere? Where the hell is this? Yiling, we get an ominous shot of the rooftops where Wei Wuxian is lurking and then we see Wang Lingjiao trying to sleep and having a nightmare.

Wang Lingjiao has gone to sleep with a full face of makeup on instead of washing her face before bed. She has forgotten the important maxim, Go To Sleep Pretty, Wake Up Zitty.

She leaps out of bed to go cling to Wen Chao and freak out about Wei Wuxian's ghost. Wen Chao is trying to read the sports section and has clearly had enough of this crap. This has presumably been going on for a little while now.

Wang Lingjiao is in a new outfit, which is...pajamas? It has the feel of a 1930's French peignoir set, and it's much more softly colored than her usual bright red-purple combo. If this is her pajamas is it weird that her day clothes are a lot more aggressively sexy-looking than her nightgown? A freak in the streets but a lady in the sheets.

Wen Chao rants about the Sunshot Campaign and talks some smack about Wen Qing, and then leaves to go to the bar and watch the game with Wen Zhuliu. After he leaves Wang Lingjiao freaks out for a bit and then looks at the notice he was reading.

The notice basically says that the Sunshot Campaign is kicking their ass. She should be proud for inspiring the name of the campaign with that kite-shooting bullshit she made up at Lotus Pier. Before slaughtering everyone.

No Matter What You Do, I Only Want To Be With You

Back at the Indoctrination Tower, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are having feelings about Wei Wuxian. Jiang Chang does all the talking but Lan Wangji's thoughts are louder because a sad violin is playing Wangxian while they talk.

Jiang Cheng tells Lan Wangji about their meetup plan and says he thought WWX had dumped him to go find Lan Wangji in Lanling. Lan Wangji telepathically indicates that this didn’t happen. This means two things: 1. Lan Wangji has been hanging out in Lanling, where Jiang Yanli has been hanging out, so maybe they have bonded over the past 3 months and 2. This is the first time Jiang Cheng has talked to Lan Wangji since Wei Wuxian disappeared. 

Much as my fic-loving heart would like to believe these two spent three months on the road together looking for Wei Wuxian, in fact they are both important high-level fighters in an active military campaign, and Lan Wangji was busy taking back the Cloud Recesses while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were having elective surgery. They probably both were assigned to the "Indoctrination Bureau" mission and this is the first chance they've had to talk about Wei Wuxian.

Is it heartbreaking that, while Wei Wuxian was helplessly getting his ass beat because he'd sacrificed his golden core for Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng believed Wei Wuxian had abandoned him for Lan Wangji? Yes. Yes it is.

For some reason Jiang Cheng is hesitant to believe that Wei Wuxian really was thrown into the Burial Mounds. I mean, I understand not wanting to believe Wei Wuxian is dead, but given that Wen Chao is the dude who oversaw the massacre of all of the people at Lotus Pier, including kids, why would Jiang Cheng think his guards are wrong? Maybe he just feels like Wei Wuxian is invincible, since so far he kinda has been. 

The Sword is Mightier Than Not Having a Sword

While they've been chatting, the Lan disciples have found their swords. One disciple is holding Bichen (LWJ's sword), Sandu (JC's sword), and OP consults wiki Suihua (Jin Zixuan's sword). Another disciple is holding Subian (WWX's sword).  

Jiang Cheng grabs Sandu while the Lan disciples, who apparently know their gongzi’s heart, offer Wei Wuxian's sword to Lan Wangji. 

Lan Wangji takes Subian (Bichen: What am I, chopped watercress?) and immediately tries to draw it. Like you don't do. It's sealed itself, which apparently means that it's upset. It's unclear if it's upset because Wei Wuxian is dead or if it just misses him, however.  

Lan Wangji definitely misses him, and wonders, out loud inside his own head, where Wei Wuxian is. Um, he's in the Burial Mounds, dude, they just told you. Well, I guess he's actually in Yiling proper at this point, haunting Wang Lingjiao as he promised her he would.

Twa Corbies

The scene shifts to Qinghe, where there are about 12 dead bodies lying around, which in this show means that there are really a few hundred. In fact, per Jiang Yanli's statement "nothing can be seen but corpses covering the plains." The camera can't see most of them, is all.

Wen Xu's head is hanging in the doorway, and the Jins talk about how Nie Mingjue killed him, cutting his head off with just one swing. Is this foreshadowing anything, like perhaps someone else's head being cut off by Baxia in just one swing? Nope, definitely not.

A couple of crows are perched on a body, totally not eating it, but Jin Zixuan gallantly zaps them with a talisman to make them fly away anyway.  It might be noteworthy that nobody used to use talismans but gradually more and more people are using them - particularly people who have spent time with Wei Wuxian.

With mony a lock of his golden hair-o, we’ll theek our nest when it grows bare-o

Asshole cousin Jin Zixun says “scavenger rights,” so Jin Zixuan puts him in charge of collecting all the bodies. 

Since OP just finished watching fur-collar-happy Nirvana in Fire, these crows look to me like they are wearing luxurious fur collars. Where OP lives, crows are not this fancy. 

A Romantic Corpse-Filled Interlude

Disaster het Jin Zixuan goes to help Jiang Yanli get out of the carriage but she rejects his hand just like he rejected hers back in Gusu.

Jiang Yanli is extremely shocked when she sees Wen Xu's severed head, and turns away in horror, preferring to calmly rest her eyes on dozens of crow-pecked corpses.

Jin Zixuan tries to comfort her and she tells him she'll be going now, thanks for the hospitality. He tries to say that he has to personally deliver her to a representative of the patriarchy one of her brothers, but then one of her brothers shows up.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng arrive, having presumably flown there from Qishan. They show that they are flying by blowing a fan on the ground and then jumping off of a box, which is better than the effects we were subjected to earlier in the episode.

Jiang Cheng rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Jiang Yanli, while Lan Wangji rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Wen Xu’s severed head. Jin Zixuan kind of spoils it for him by talking about Wei Wuxian's absence while Lan Wangji is trying to have a moment.

The whole time Jin Zixuan is talking to him, Lan Wangji appears to be gazing into the middle distance but in fact he is staring at Wen Xu's severed head. This is the guy who led the burning of Cloud Recesses, killed a bunch of disciples, and personally broke Lan Wangji's leg. Lan Wangji stares at his head for more than a full minute before glancing away.

Jiang Yanli hasn't seen Jiang Cheng since they were in Wen Qing's clinic, and she is happy he's recovered. When she asks about Wei Wuxian he gives her the bad news in the classic Jiang fashion, which is to say nothing, but look stricken until your interlocutor figures out that something is horribly wrong, but not precisely what.

Four Angry Men

Inside the fortress, Nie Mingjue is slapping the table and saying, this bad boy can hold so much resentment and vengeance. They're having a mini war council and we're getting a better sense of Nie Mingjue's anger management problem. Note for those who don't get the gif reference: this is a The Godfather joke, not a sex joke, but it can be both, if you like.

We're also getting a little more info about Baxia, who seems to be eager to go fight even without anyone wielding it. (Her? Him? Them? do swords have gender? I don't know). Well done, person below the camera frame whose job is to rattle Baxia in a menacing manner.

They've got a giant model of the battle targets, which looks like it was carved out of real rock (I mean, as much as any of the rocks on this show look like real rocks) and has its own table and everything, decorated in Nie colors. Where was this before they took Qinghe back? Has Nie Mingjue been traveling with it? 

Anyway, I'm assuming Nie Huaisang made it, because it's pretty nice. Hopefully they will keep it around for tabletop gaming after the war is over.

Jiang Cheng is upset but is using his anger management mantra to help control his temper while Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji talk with Nie Mingjue. 

Lan Wangji talks by leaning forward meaningfully, mostly not by using any words, but he asks for a battle assignment and Jiang Cheng immediately joins in. They both want to go find Wei Wuxian. 

Nie Mingjue says Yiling is too difficult of a target, but Lan Wangji puts on his determined face, which is apparently very persuasive.  

After Team Find Wei Wuxian leaves, Nie Mingjue asks Jin Zixuan to hang back so he can ask him how Meng Yao is doing. This is the first time he finds out that his ex didn't go to Lanling. Jin Zixuan tries to delicately remind him that Dad's got, like, SO many bastard children, they really don't have space for all of them. Nie Mingjue dismisses him immediately and abruptly. 

Nie Mingjue might invite the straights to his party but he isn't interested in actually socializing with them.

Unconditional Soup is Only for A-Xian

Jiang Cheng can't sleep, and takes some time, now, to be sad about Wei Wuxian. Presumably he spent the prior 3 months being mad, not sad, because he really thought he just buggered off without saying anything for all that time. Which is sort of fair, but sort of not. One thing about these two bros is that for as close as they have been and as much as they love each other, their mutual understanding has some big, messy gaps.

Fortunately while he is feeling sad, Jiang Cheng does not try to draw Subian from its sheath, because wouldn't THAT be awkward.

Jiang Yanli can't sleep either, and comes to sit with him. Jiang Cheng feels bad that she's wearing herself out with worry and she says "As your sister, I have nothing to do but to worry about you." Jiang Yanli isn't one to complain but she doesn't like being inactive or helpless. In Lanling she was far from the war, but now that she's in Qinghe she'll make herself useful by tending the wounded, and later she'll help Jiang Cheng shoulder his responsibilities as he takes over the Jiang clan.

At the moment, however, all she can do is fret and make soup. As she gives Jiang Cheng a bowlful she reminds him that he absolutely has to rescue their brother who has, according to his captors, been reduced to bone dust.

With all the impossible shit that Jiang Cheng is expected to achieve - and in many instances, does achieve - he is absolutely the embodiment of the Jiang Clan's motto. Fuck his father for disrespecting him because he hadn't figured out how to do everything by the age of 16.

Definitely Not Chilling in Yiling

Back in Yiling, Wen Chao is hearing the news that the Qishan Indoctrination Bureau has fallen and that he's being called back to Nightless City. Wen Chao says he shouldn't need to go back because his dad has a new right-hand man. That new right-hand man, we will eventually learn, is Meng Yao. Wang Lingjiao, meanwhile, is hiding under the bed covers and deciding it's time to dump Wen Chao.

She locks the door and goes to pull out her jewelry box, which is locked and hidden under the bed. Maybe this is Wen Chao's jewelry box, because she acts kind of squirrely about opening it. Upon opening the jewelry box, she doesn't find jewelry but a pair of bloody fake eyeballs staring at her.  She screams and freaks out and then the wind picks up and we hear the sound of a flute, playing the "I'm here to fuck your shit up" tune that Wei Wuxian likes.

Wang Lingjiao runs to the door and pulls down the protection talisman that's pasted above it, and pastes it directly to her chest instead, which is, we will learn in the next episode, the worst idea she could possibly have at this point.

Then she uses a poking stick to go flip the jewelry box open and finds it's full of ugly-ass jewelry again, plus an improbable number of weird round paper-mache biscuits that have been painted gold. None of this jewelry looks anything like the exquisite accessories people wear in this show, which means this stash was put together by the practical effects department, not by the costume department.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao apparently thinks she can sell this fakeass stuff for a good price, so more power to her. But then we get a short glimpse of the menacing eyeballs again, this time on the floor, having moved out of the box and brought their little blood pool with them. Screeching ensues.

Next episode: Lady in Red!

Soundtrack: Twa Corbies, by Steeleye Span

[kanerallels]

for your 111 celebration - star wars, kanera, karaoke??? :D

It would be my pleasure!!!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: TBD, I'm currently on mobile with no way of checking

Tags/Warning: rated G (for good grief, Kanan you drama queen). The only objectional thing is the fact that Ezra is presented as Kanan's biological son with very little explanation. TW for alcohol

The first time Hera Syndulla saw Kanan Jarrus after Gorse was nothing like what she’d expected.

She was in a cantina on Mykapo, waiting for Sabine to return from her mission-- the Mandalorian girl was picking up intel from one of their contacts who lived there, and Hera was watching her back from a distance. It was a good learning experience for the teenager, and she had Chopper with her. Hera was more than happy to sit in the bar waiting for her crew’s return-- and treat herself to a drink while she was at it.

Settled at one of the stools, Hera waited patiently for the bartender to come serve her. As she did so, her gaze wandered around the room. It was the standard cantina, containing quite a motley crew of beings, although not as many as there would be after the average work day. Then it would be filled to the brim with them. In the back of the room was a stage and a karaoke machine, currently being used by a very drunk, very tone deaf Quarren.

She wasn’t sure what made her glance to her side-- perhaps a slight rustle of sound, or the sudden sensation that someone was close by. But she did, and was startled to meet the bright blue eyes of a boy, who couldn’t have been much older than twelve.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a grin. “I’m Ezra. What’s your name?”

“...hi,” Hera responded, caught somewhat off guard. Regaining her equilibrium, she offered him her hand. “I’m Hera. It’s nice to meet you, Ezra.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Ezra said, shaking her hand solemnly.

Curiosity flickering through her, Hera asked, “So, Ezra, what brings you to this bar? I’m… pretty sure kids aren’t allowed in here-- no offense.”

“None taken-- they’re not,” Ezra said with a shrug. “But the owner makes an exception for me, cause I’m awesome. Also, my dad works here.”

“Your dad, huh?” Hera gave the kid a once-over, taking in his scruffy blue-black hair and relatively clean orange jumpsuit. Nothing that would signify he was telling the truth-- but then, there was very little that would point to the opposite. “And where is your dad right now?”

Seeming unconcerned by her questions, Ezra craned his neck, looking around as the Quarren on stage stumbled off to several boos from the crowd. “Huh. Could have sworn he was-- ah-ha!! There he is!”

Ezra pointed, and Hera followed his hand to the karaoke stage, where a new song was starting on the machine. Standing next to it, holding the microphone, was a tall, familiar figure she hadn't thought she'd ever see again.

Kanan Jarrus sent her a crooked grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he lifted the microphone and said, “I'd like to dedicate this song to a special someone out there sitting at the bar next to my kid, the drop dead gorgeous Twi'lek woman. You know who you are.”

“Because you just told everyone,” Hera pointed out in exasperation, but Kanan didn't seem to be listening-- nor did the crowd, all of whom seemed deeply invested. Grinning widely, he started to sing, his voice a deep, rich baritone:

“I musta been through about a million girls,

I love em and I leave em alone

I didn’t care how much they cried, no sir,

Their tears left me cold as a stone.

But then I fooled around and fell in love,

I fooled and fell in love…”

Hera had to give it to him-- he had a good voice, better than she’d expected. Catching her eye, Kanan shot her a wink, and Hera dropped her head into her hands in exasperation. “So, he hasn’t changed at all,” she observed to herself.

“Wait, do you know Kanan?” Ezra asked, sounding delighted. “That’s awesome! How do you know him?”

“We met about five years ago,” Hera told him, pointedly avoiding Kanan’s gaze. “On Gorse. He was--”

“Wait, you’re the Gorse lady?” Ezra gasped, his eyes going wide. “No WAY. Kanan mentioned you a couple times.”

“Did he,” Hera said, raising an eyebrow. “Please, tell me exactly what he said.” She wasn’t exactly sure why Kanan would be talking about her with this kid-- his son? The ages didn’t exactly match up-- but she was definitely curious as to how it had come up.

Ezra frowned thoughtfully. “Let’s see-- I remember! He told me you were the best pilot he’d ever met, and that you were kinda crazy but also really smart and good at what you did-- but most importantly, he said that he'd trust you to watch his back.”

“What?” Hera said, taken aback. She'd expected parts of what Ezra said, and was even secretly pleased about the pilot part. But to know that she had Kanan's trust? That struck a different chord for Hera.

“I know,” Ezra said, nodding gravely. “It surprised me, too. Kanan doesn't really trust people. I mean, I've seen him trust people before, but it's been a really long time. So when I heard that he trusted you, I knew you had to be special to him.”

“I don't think that's quite true,” Hera said, mildly embarrassed. “Kanan and I-- well, we only knew each other for a little while. I don’t think he could have learned to trust me that much in that little time.” But even as she spoke, she remembered on the Forager, the moment when the ship was coming to pieces around them and Kanan had used the Force to save her. He’d showed her his deepest secret in that moment, a secret that could easily have him killed. But he’d trusted her with it. Maybe Ezra is on to something.

Shrugging, Ezra said, “Maybe, but I think he sees something special about you. Or hears-- he also mentioned your voice.”

As Hera turned that over in her mind, Kanan's song ended. The entire cantina burst into applause, and Hera couldn't resist an eye roll at his antics as he gave the crowd a wave and a bow. Strolling off of the stage, Kanan moved behind the bar and towards where Hera was sitting.

As he approached, Hera lifted an eyebrow at him. “Very impressive,” she said dryly. “Who would have thought you could sing?”

“I live to please,” Kanan said, leaning against the bar and grinning at her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Hera said. “I do have one issue with the whole performance, however. Did it occur to you that I might be trying to keep a low profile, and wouldn’t want the entire bar staring at me?”

“Trust me, most of them are so drunk they won’t remember our names, faces or what song I chose,” Kanan assured her. “I wouldn’t dream of messing with whatever you’re up to now. We all remember how that went last time.”

“I didn’t think it went that badly,” Hera said, and Kanan’s grin widened.

“Oh, really?”

Giving him a look, Hera said, “The mission. I completed my objective, after all.”

“I suppose you did, Captain.” Straightening up, Kanan asked, “So, what can I get you?”

“Something non-alcoholic,” Hera said. “I’m here on business.”

“I’ve got the perfect thing. So, business, eh?” Kanan made a face as he opened the mini fridge behind him and pulled out a bottle of juice. “That never means anything good.”

“I thought you wanted to avoid that sort of thing,” Hera pointed out.

“Good point,” Kanan said, handing her a glass full of the juice. Hera took a sip and was pleasantly surprised at the familiar tangy taste of meiloorun, combined with something a little sweeter. As she took another sip, Kanan turned to Ezra. “And kid, what are you doing out here? We’ve talked about this.”

“It’s boring in the back,” Ezra protested. “There’s nothing to do, and no one to talk to. Don’t worry, Hera’s keeping an eye on me.”

Kanan’s gaze flashed from the kid to Hera. “Oh, she is now, is she? Well, you can’t sit at the bar, at the least. Come back here, okay?”

Ezra grumbled something, but vaulted over the bar in a very Kanan-like move. As he disappeared behind the bar, Hera said quietly, “I didn’t know you had a kid.”

“Recent development,” Kanan said calmly, and there was a snort from down where Ezra had settled.

“Try five years!”

“That, too,” Kanan agreed, but Hera’s mind was busy matching up the timeline.

“Five years? That was around the time we first met, wasn’t it?”

Nodding, Kanan said, “Yeah. It was actually shortly after that.”

“Was that why you didn’t come with me?”

“More or less.”

Ezra’s head appeared from behind the bar. “Wait, you asked Kanan to go with you? You never told me that! Were you two lovers?”

Hera nearly choked on her drink and Kanan let out a long sigh. “EZRA. We’ve talked about these kinds of questions.”

“You said I could ask you whatever I wanted,” Ezra pointed out. “The first day I moved in with you--”

“Yeah, I know, and you’ve proceeded to never let it go since. No, we were not lovers.”

“Not for lack of trying on your part,” Hera murmured into her juice.

“Ouch.”

“It’s just the truth, dear.”

“Fair enough,” Kanan muttered, a slight grin slipping across his face as Ezra snickered down by his feet.

“I like her.” he told the older man.

“Me, too,” Kanan told Ezra. Turning to Hera, he said, “So, it’s been a minute and a half since we talked. How’ve you been? Find some more crew for that gorgeous ship of yours?”

“I did,” Hera said, a small smile crossing her face. “I think you’d like them.”

“No idea if that’s a compliment for them,” Kanan joked. A serious look crossed his face. “However… I’m glad. Whoever this person is. I’ve always maintained that you needed more support in your life.”

“You never once said that,” Hera pointed out.

“No? Must have been someone else.”

“Must have been,” Hera said lightly. She paused for a minute, studying Kanan closely. He looked different-- older, of course. And despite his cavalier attitude, there was a new layer of something, responsibility, perhaps.

But more than any of those, he looked tired. Now that he was directly across from her, Hera could see the dark shadows under his eyes, and while he still leaned against the bar casually, there was the slightest slump to his shoulders. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

One of Kanan’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked caught off guard. “What?”

“You look exhausted,” Hera told him, deciding to just get straight to the point. Kanan opened his mouth, presumably to make some joke, and Hera speared him with a glare. “The truth, please.”

He closed his mouth with an audible snap, then sighed. “It’s been a long month. I’ve been working a lot lately. And this time of year is always… hard.”

Hera saw his gaze flick down to where Ezra was, and she frowned slightly. She knew Empire Day was coming up soon-- clearly, it had some special significance for these two.

She started to ask him another question, but heard a commotion behind her. Kanan’s gaze snapped up, and his hand slid towards where a blaster was. Hera turned and spotted Sabine and Chopper making a beeline towards her. “They’re with me,” she told him.

“This is your crew? Seems a little young,” Kanan remarked.

“Said the man with a son he didn’t tell me about,” Hera shot back, although she was getting less and less convinced that Ezra was Kanan’s biological son.

Before Kanan could respond, Sabine was next to them, the look in her eyes urgent. “Hera, we’ve got something.”

“What is?” Hera asked, and Sabine’s gaze moved to Kanan warily. “He’s fine,” Hera assured the Mandalorian.

Holding up a hand, Kanan said, “Don’t worry, Mandalorian. I want absolutely nothing to do with this.” Grabbing a cleaning rag, he began wiping down the surface of the bar.

“Not sure if that’s reassuring, but whatever,” Sabine said. Looking back at Hera, she said, “We got a lead.”

“On the survivor from Lasan?” Hera asked in shock. She felt Kanan’s gaze shift back towards them, but focused on Sabine. “Tell me everything.”

“Apparently, he was spotted a few days ago-- Hera, we have a location. He’s hiding out on Pantora.”

“Pantora? That’s only a few days from here.” Making up her mind on the spot, Hera turned to Kanan and slid him a few credits. “Thanks for the drink-- I need to go.”

He didn’t take the money. “You found a Lasat survivor?” he asked, his voice sounding stunned. “There are some left?”

“Only the one that we know of,” Sabine said, eying him warily. “Why? Also who is this?”

Kanan ignored her and turned to Hera. “Let me come with you.”

Hera’s eyes shot wide. “What? Kanan, now’s not the time for--”

“Hera, I’m serious. Let me come with you. I can help.” Kanan’s voice was shockingly urgent as he leaned across the bar, his gaze locking with Hera’s. “Please. I can help you get him to safety.”

“Why exactly do you want to help so much?” Sabine asked, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Kanan’s gaze didn’t leave Hera’s as he replied, “Because I’ve been where he is.”

Oh. Oh, kriff.

Hera hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “You can come.”

“What?” Sabine’s incredulity was almost immediately drowned out as Ezra jumped up from behind the bar.

“YES!!! Finally, we can leave Mykapo, it’s SO BORING here.”

“What the-- Who’s this?” Sabine demanded. “Hera--”

“I’ll explain on the way,” Hera promised. Looking at Kanan, she said, “Meet us in the space port. We’re in docking bay seven.”

“We’ll be there in fifteen minute,” Kanan replied, already moving, Ezra all but skipping at his side.

As Hera led the way out of the cantina, her two companions brimming with questions and suspicion, she had to admit-- she hadn’t expected to leave Mykapo with new crew members. But for whatever reason, she had a really good feeling about this, and about Kanan Jarrus. It all depended on what happened next, and Hera was very interested to see what that was.